Venom
by LymaT
Summary: Revenge for her father's death will lead to a fight to justice for the realm, and a fight not to fall for the black haired bastard. Nieve Sand meets friends and foes, and discovers a bigger power within herself. - Jon Snow/OC (Set after the event of season 4. Slight AU.)
1. Prologue

**Okay so this is my first time writing a fanfiction, so go easy on me. Just wanted to write something to get hyped up for season 5, and I just had this story rattled around in my head. This story is based shortly through and after the events of the season 4 episodes 8, 9, and 10. So careful for spoilers of season 4 and slightly of season 5, as I hope this to be a fairly long running fic - if you guys like it.**

Prologue…

Nieve Sand knew it was a dark day when it rained in Dorne: 'Dornish weather never lies', her father would say. Something terrible was happening. She knew it. Shame she knew it too late. Her greensight had returned for the first time in eleven years. She'd always had the dreams at night, but she had only ever had one other vision awake before; when she was nine:

An enormous ice wall, and among that baron wall, was a flower, blue and stronger than the delicate appearance it possessed. the cold winds battered the flower around but the petals gripped and the stem held.

She was ever confused but knew it was more than just a dream. She told no one of her sight. But today the vision was more prominent, and she knew right away what it meant. She saw a single viper on a mountainside; she watched it striking violently as the earth began to shake. Rocks tumbled down the slopes and crushed the creature.

She knew. She knew, but too late: Her father was dead.

She wept. And sure enough, four days later word arrived that Oberyan Martell was defeated by the brute Gregor Clegleanne. She was done crying now. The sky was done crying too.

Now she wanted nothing more than vengeance.

**Dum dum duh! I know it's super short but I'm uploading the next Chapter almost straight away so please stick with it. I don't expect to get any followers, but I will continue writing as I really enjoy it whether people are reading or not. But if you are reading please review just because it's helpful to know who's interested and as tips for a fanfic virgin writer like myself hehe.**

**Thank you for reading, fellows watchers on the JonXOC wall! (Sorry that's a terrible joke and it will never happen again)**


	2. Like Father, Like Daughter

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Chapter 1 - Like Father, like Daughter

Nieve had always wondered why her father had named her after snow. She was anything but fair of skin or hair, nor of heart for that matter, and she did not live up north where snow fell but in Dorne, with sun, sea and arid deserts. But she had once asked her father of her name and he said it was because he knew when they took her in when she was just a baby, that she would be different from her other sisters in many ways. That sounded like Oberyan Martell, always knowing more than he let on. Well he was right, Nieve thought. She had never told anyone of her green sight, and while she imagined her father would understand, she wouldn't want the news to spread, her uncle Prince Doran, wasn't keen on magic, since the days of the mad king.

So she kept her powers to herself - even from her Sandsnake sisters, whom the five eldest were at this time, sat in their father's chambers, plotting how they would reek their revenge on the Lannisters and Greggor Clegane. Nieve had made her suggestion: "I'll go to Kings Landing, and shove my spear down their throats until it pierces their hearts, one by one."

They all wanted nothing more, but the other snakes weren't so enthralled with Nieve's brashness.

"And what could a failed assassin like you do?" Sneers Obara.

"Oh you'd be unpleasantly surprised about what I can do" Nieve grumbles.

"We need revenge but it'll take time."Obara reasoned.

Nieve huffs and lies back on her father's bed. She stares at the ceiling, golden and jewelled suns glisten in the tapestry. She forgot how beautiful the Sunspear was having been in Braavos for many years. There, in the House of Black and White, she had lost her natural Dornish accent, now sounding of the capital - her sisters had always looked at her differently however; not being of biological birth to the Martells. But from the moment she came back from Braavos, two years ago, she was never quite at home, never quite their sister again.

"The same way it took father twenty years, right?", Nieve states calmly. She catches a hint of his scent on the sheets, and the despite the severity of her words, smiles slightly. "He never got his revenge for Aunt Elia because he played it safe."

Obara, Nymeria and Tyene, share a look - they knew it was true.

"She's right," Tyene admits "We can't play it the same way father did. If we're going to have our justice we must take everything from the Lannisters; their lives, their home and their throne."

Nieve sits up staring at Tyene in disbelief.

"You mean war." They all look to the voice of Ellaria Sand who walked in at the moment - she had managed to escape with a small company of Dornish guards from King's Landing, arriving with the message of Oberyan's death. She hadn't come out of the temple where his body lays for days now. She looks red eyed and older than her years all of a sudden. Her clothes were dark in mourning, her usual smirk wiped and replaced with a look of disgust.

"War." She continues, "That city deserves a massacre." Ellaria spits.

"You can't do that." Nieve says aggressively. Ellaria looks at Nieve like she's gone mad. Eyes wide with fury. She strides over to Nieve standing over her on the bed. Nieve stands, eyes defiant, squaring up her unofficial step mother.

"What did you say?!"Her voice screeches with disbelief.

Nieve sighs. "That city doesn't deserve to suffer! But the Lannisters do."

"I watched the mountain take my lover in his hands and crush his head!" Nieve winces at her words - she knows its true but she hates thinking of her father in that context. "So I can demand war, and I will! I will take everything dear from them, the way they took everything dear from me!" Ellaria's voice cracks, but she holds her furious gaze.

_Glad I'm not one of your daughters then, if he's all that's dear to you, _Nieve thought.

"We don't concern ourselves with wars for thrones," Nyermia pipes up. "We are Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken."

"We have been broken though." Tyene states, "They took our prince from us -"

"-And I'm saying we'll have our revenge just not through war." Nieve pleads. "I can kill them, just the ones responsible, I swear to the God of Death.-"

"-NO!" Ellaria was almost in sobs but she keeps her head high. "I will take their happiness first. I need that satisfaction, more than just a blade to their throats."

"This isn't the Martell way!" Nieve yells. She was aware her tone was harsh and but she couldn't condone the idea - condemning thousands of other lives to death and suffering on what was a personal vendetta. This was a lesson she had learnt from the house at Braavos in her training - a task that one man could achieve with a single blade was not worth the sacrifice of an army. But she understood her family were in a different stage of grieving - after all she did have four more days to reach acceptance, nor had she watched her father's murder, whilst they still felt unconditional rage.

"We go to war and that's final, and if you.." Ellaria rounds on Nieve, who is striding towards the door, "..do anything to fuck up my revenge, I'll have you join your father in the Crypt!-"

Nieve heard her threat but she was out the door before Ellaria could finish. _This could be her revenge but what about my revenge, Nieve thought_. She swiftly steps down the corridor, before rounding a corner, Nieve stopped suddenly. She thought she saw a flash of something quickly dash at the end of the corridor. She presses herself against the wall, drawing a embellished dagger she constantly carried, strapped round her thigh. She edges silently closer to the corner, raising the blade in her clenched fist.

She pounces, twisting the arm of her assailant around, crushing his face against the wall and pressing the tip of the dagger to his back.

"Who are you?" Nieve whispers deathly. "Why were you listening into our conversation?"

"Please. Please." He begs.

"It's good you know your manners, but you still haven't answered my questions!" Nieve retorts.

"I was sent by the Spider." The young man struggles, trying to wriggle free. Nieve pushes hard on him, twisting his arm tighter and he cries out in pain.

"So you're a spy. A little Bird, I recall he names you."

"Yes, please let me go."

"'Fraid not just yet, little bird - you know things. I need to know what you know. All of it." Nieve skilful flips him around to face her, pressing her forearm against his chest pinning him to the wall and jabbing the sharp edge of her sword against his chest. "Tell me a way into the castle at King's Landing?"

She could see his face clearer now - a young man caked in dirt, handsome, poor, and scared.

"I dunno! - I don't deliver information into the castle, I pass it on to the squires to reach the Spider." He says desperately.

"Okay, well when do the Lannister's leave the Castle?"

"Hardly ever. They fear the people as much as the people fear them. But I know one Lannister that is missing - The Imp! He fled from the capitol. I heard the spider fled too - dunno how or why."

"Where is he now?"

"The Spider?"

"Both Varys and Tyrion, idiot; of course they fled together." Nieve growls.

"Not sure. I heard a ship left the port of Flea Bottom that night - we think to Braavos."

"And how much did you hear of our conversation in the Prince's room."

"Hardly any of it, I swear it, milady." he panics.

"I'm not a lady." Nieve says solemnly and plunges the dagger deep - making sure the blade reaches the poor boy's heart swiftly so as to spare him major suffering. His eyes look into hers with horror, before rolling into the back of his head. His legs gave way and his body slid slowly to hit the ground. Nieve glanced over her shoulder, no one had seen them. She was relived but it was soon washed over by guilt. This way he wouldn't talk, but she'd wished he was listening in in the first place. But now she had a lead, she would start with the Lannister unprotected from the walls of King's Landing: Tyrion Lannister.

**This is a slow building romance - I know it seems like this isn't heading in a NieveXJon direction, but don't worry they will meet. Just want to establish the character first as an individual with her own problems before she gets roped into Jon's. She'll meet some others characters on the way too.**

**Hope you're enjoying it so far, sorry if their are any spelling or grammatical errors. Please follow, favourite and review.**

**And see you for Chapter 2 - ****_Revenge Comes In All Shapes And Sizes._**


	3. Revenge Comes In All Shapes And Sizes

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**...**

_Chapter 2 - Revenge Comes In All Shapes And Sizes_

The journey to Braavos had been rough. Nieve always hated being at sea. She had managed to sneakily climb aboard a merchant ship at the port of Sandship, without her fellow sisters knowing. It wasn't the motion of the waves that made her uncomfortable, but the cramped living space - the claustrophobic environment. Most clear nights she spent sleeping on deck with the sailors. She preferred it under the stars; it made her feel less isolated, less confined. The journey had taken no longer than two weeks, but it was longer than she would have liked. It was dangerous for Varys and Tyrion to stay in Braavos - the city was constantly occupied by spies. They could have moved on now - to Qohor or Meeren or even heading as far as Sothoryos. _That's what I'd do if I were him,_ Nieve thought_. _She hoped the Imp was stupid enough the stay in Braavos but from what she'd heard, Tyrion was very smart, and she'd met Lord Varys before and witnessed his notorious intelligence as a council member.

"Land a ho!" the Lookout screams. Nieve dashes starboard to gaze at the city ahead, that had been her home for so many years. She knew the streets like the back of her hand, she remembers the smells of the ports, the touch of the stone walls around the Septe, but none of all took her breath away every time like the Titan of Braavos, as the ship drew closer to pass through the legs of the magnificent landmark. She was home, but then she remembered they would not have such a warm welcome for her.

**...**

Half an hour later she'd thanked and paid the captain, and was wondering around the winding narrow streets in the lower town. She stays hooded, wishing to be safe rather than sorry that anyone would recognise her. She reaches closer to the centre of town. She was in hopes to find a friend she knew who worked at the brothel.

_If she's still even there, it's been years_.

The markets were booming, constant trade and business in Braavos - that's what she loved, the city was always busy and fast paced. Nieve sees the alley leading to The temple of the Many Faced Gods - _Oh what's the harm in looking_, she thought, following the path to The House of Black and White. She remains in the shadows of a narrow alley, staring at her previous home from a far._ I wonder if they're all still there,_ she thought, all her old mentors and friends. Nieve had been a great assassin, but her mind and power could not allow her to loose who she was. She loses her train of thought just as a cat comes streaking past her. Without even hesitating Nieve grabs it. Chasing cats had been a form of training with the guild of faceless men. She clutches at it so it couldn't wriggle free, before giving it a little scratch on the head. The creature purs and stops thrashing immediately, Nieve smiles. Then around the corner skids a young girl, who looks no older than thirteen.

"Who are you?" The girl says sharply.

"Who are you?" Nieve asks matter-of-factly but she keeps her smile.

"I asked you first." The girl responds, her aggression not quite strong enough to mask curiosity.

"Just an old student." Nieve replies honestly, nodding towards the house, "And you?"

"Just a new student." The girl retorts. Nieve smiles even wider. _She's quick._ But obviously not quick enough; the girl's hand hovers over her hip under her cape - evidently

waiting to reach for a blade.

Nieve gestures to her indiscreetness, "Don't make it obvious you have a weapon - ruins the element of surprise. Learn to draw quickly instead."

The girl's eyes narrow. "What are you doing here?"

"Is Jaqen still there?" Nieve ignores her question.

"Why don't you go in and find out for yourself?"

"I can't. I'm not actually meant to be here." Nieve said absentmindedly, stroking the cat.

"Why?" The girl still stands posed in a stance; ready to fight. It doesn't bother Nieve however.

"Lots of questions, haven't we?" She says and edges slowly toward the girl. She shifts in posture but holds her ground.

"Well you're a stranger skulking outside my home."

Nieve challenges, "Home is it already? You're are from the North of Westeros, are you not?"

The girl blinked in shock. Nieve decided it was her turn to ask the questions.

"How old are you?"

The girl doesn't respond, still wary.

"I'm twenty." Nieve admits, "There's no harm in telling."

There's a thoughtful pause before she answers. "Fourteen in a few months."

"I was fourteen when I came to the House of Black and white."

"You're not from Braavos either." The girl counters. "You sound southern."

"Dornish actually." Nieve smiles.

"When did you leave the House?" She's lost her stance now, moving in closer, genuinely curious.

"When I was eighteen."

The girl makes a worried expression, "Is that how long it takes to become a faceless man?"

"No." Nieve laughs. "I learnt the skill, took a few jobs - unpaid. But I never took the mask."

"Why not?"

"Didn't want to forget who I was." Nieve says with a sad smile.

The girl's brow furrows in confusion. "So why have you come back here then?"

"Like I said: I don't want to forget who I was."

The girl nods.

"You're dealing with the same issue right now, i can tell." Nieve continues, "They told you to forget your old life; your family, your identity. 'how can you become someone else, if you're attached to you who you are?' and they have a point - if you're looking to do it right."

The girl hangs on to Nieve's every word.

"You didn't do it right though did you, but you still learnt the skill of killing."

"Yes." Nieve says suspiciously. _A northern girl with a desire for revenge, I think I might know who this is._ Nieve thinks the chances would be slim - the girl had been missing for years, declared dead even._ But yet…_

"It wasn't easy pretending though." Nieve doesn't let up her train of thought, "They'll tempt you with your past, try convince you to become _no one_. I learnt how to become _someone_ else - but refused to let go of who I truly was, so they kicked me out."

The girl barely let Nieve finish; "Can you teach me?" she seemed desperate. "I scared too."

Nieve looks her in the eyes. She sees the same fear and desperation she had felt when joined the Gilde of the Faceless Men. But she couldn't entertain the idea, she had too much to deal with already. "Don't you want to be a exemplarily student?" Nieve mocks.

"I'm serious."

Nieve's tone now stern, "You don't want to go down the path I did. I'm disgraced here - wanted even."

"But you still know how to kill." The girl is determined.

Nieve nods.

"Then teach me. How do I resist losing myself?"

Nieve protests, "I don't have the time-"

"-Fine. I'll just go tell the mentors you're in Braavos then…" The girl says threateningly.

Nieve smiles even wider at her. "Alright. Well played. Meet me after sun down, at the lower town ports."

Now it's the girls turn to smile.

"What's your name?" Nieve asks.

"Cat."

Nieve rolls her eyes. "You want me to teach you how to keep your identity, yet you give me your alias. Not a good start, Arya Stark."

The girl's hand flies back to the blade again, "How do you know my-"

"-I know too much. That's why I could never do well here. But you could do awful."

Arya grins at her.

"Remember sun down. Ports." Nieve hands her back the cat, "And bring something that reminds you of home."

**...**

A mere twenty minutes later Nieve reaches the brothel were her messenger awaits. The place is a depressing scene, but everyone seems pleased sounds coming from the rooms. A small thin man, with a pointed beard welcomes her. He's dressed in various embroidered floral silks, bound in a thin gold band around his hips. _Definitely the pimp_, Nieve thinks.

"What can I do you for?" He smiles falsely. "We many fine young men in our service. Or perhaps it is the company of women you seek…?"

F_rankly it's none of your damn business, _Nieve thinks. But ultimately ignores his offers.

"I'm looking for a women by the name of Clea."

"Aha. You will not be disappointed - she is one of my finest treasures, but you know how it is; treasure is worth a lot."

Nieve rolls her eyes, produces her satchel and hands him some silver. And he snaps into friendly service again.

"Right this way, Lady..?"

"…Lady Lycodon." Nieve says swiftly.

"What an interesting name." The brothel-keeper is unconvinced, but Nieve couldn't give a shit.

They reach the room belonging to Clea. She calls "come in", and Nieve enters, closing the door in the brothel-keeper's face. Clea is sprawled across the bed in a thin garment that barely cover anything - obviously expecting an actual customer. She sits up in shock to see Nieve, a friend she hasn't seen in many years.

"Get up, Clea, I'm not going to fuck you." Nieve smiles. Clea laughs in disbelief and dashes to Nieve. The embrace.

"I can't believe this. What are you doing in Braavos? How've you been?"

"Well, things haven't been great." Nieve looks down at her feet. "I need your help, Clea."

"What's wrong?" Clea pulls away properly to look at her friend's devastated face.

"My father is dead." Nieve tells her. Clea gasps. "The Lannisters. I heard Tyrion is here in Braavos. I'm going to find him and kill him. I'm going to kill them all!"

"Nieve, I'm sorry." Clea holds her shoulders in comfort. "I really am. But what can I do?"

"I need help finding the imp." Nieve says calmly, "You're in the best position to hear secrets here. Hells, he probably comes here for satisfaction himself."

"He has of yet. Word would have gotten around. But I promise I'll do what I can to find out where he is."

"Thank you, Clea."

"It's really good to see you. I've missed you. We must catch up. You've paid for the hour right?"

Nieve laughs, "Yes." They sit cross-legged on the bed, for old times sake. Clea's elbows resting on her knees and chin resting in her hands.

"Now tell me all about your adventures. Life can't be easy for a rogue assassin…?"

**...**

Later that evening Nieve had got food from the tavern in the lower side of town, killing time until Arya's arrival at the ports. She didn't know why she agreed to this - she could not afford attachments nor the time to training little Ladies in Waiting. But then she thought about how she would have wished someone would have trained her; shown her how to handle the gild's training without becoming a mindless killing piece of meat - to be used; to be a slave to iron.

"Valar morghulis" Says a defiant voice from behind Nieve. Arya had arrived to meet her at the ports. They stand on a ruined and abandoned pier, the sun still setting, the area was fairly empty. All but a few tradesmen a couple of piers along.

"Valar morghulis." Nieve responds with a nod. "Did you bring what I asked of you?"

Arya nods. Drawing a small rapier she approaches Nieve with it. Nieve looks at the blade.

"Fine blade. What's it's value?"

Arya looked at her concerned, and retracts the weapon protective away from Nieve's reach.

"You can't have it! It's not for sale!"

"I meant it's sentimental value."

Arya looked taken aback. "Oh." she relaxed again. "My brother, Jon, gave it to me."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't allowed to fight. Being a proper little lady and all." Arya says bitterly.

"So your brother taught you?" Nieve knew the rest of the seven kingdoms weren't so keen on allowing the ability to fight back, unlike Dorne, but it still outraged her. _If_

_anything women need it more,_ she thinks angrily, remembering Elia and the injustice done against her and her children. _That will never happen to me, and hopefully that will never happen to Arya now either._

"No, he left for the wall, and gave me Needle as a goodbye." Arya explains.

Nieve smiles, "Needle? Is that the blade's name?"

"Yes."

"Good name."

"So how will you be teaching me? Why did I need to bring Needle?" She swung the blade through the air, reminding herself of the weight and grip of the sword.

"The lesson has already begun. You must constantly relive you past if you wish to remain in the present." Nieve reveals.

"So what? I come to you and tell you my life story over and over."

Nieve shrugs,"That and amongst other things. I'll also train you to fight - tutor you in everything I know."

"How can I trust you. I'm going to be telling you personal things - I don't know what you can then go do with that information."

"Fair point." Nieve agrees. "Everytime you tell me something personal, I'll tell you a bit about myself too. That way you have as much on me as I do you."

Arya considers this for a moment, "Okay. First let's start with who you are then?" She begins.

"My name is Nieve Sand, adopted daughter to Prince Oberyn of House Martell. I grew up in the Sunspear, and I trained with the faceless men for two years - I was one of their fastest learners in the guild - until I refused to graduate and take a new face. I then spent the next two years squatting in taverns, travelling around Essos for hit work. But I always refused money. I'd agree to kill the ones who deserve it. When I finally went back to Dorne, I made it my business to know everything that went on in the Seven Kingdoms. It's proved helpful."

Arya Listened silently throughout, making her judgements. Nieve was a good reader, despite Arya's blank expression; she knew Arya believed her.

"Is that information sufficient enough for today, Lady Stark?" Nieve smirks.

**...**

They spent the next few nights for two weeks like this - exchanging stories, sparring, training, meditating. Arya told Nieve everything, from her childhood in Winterfell, to the visit at the Capitol, and the journey to try reunite with her family since. Nieve tried her best not to show it but she was horrified, _how could someone so young suffer so much. _She told Arya to use that pain, keep it fresh, "that's what is needed to fuel vengeance, and no one can be no one when they have a vendetta."

Arya had warmed to Nieve, it was like having a big sister again, only this time Arya felt she could appreciate it more. Nieve had heard of the news of Sansa, and her other siblings and told Arya where they were last seen. Nieve hoped this would only provoke a protective desire in Arya - that she still had some family worth fighting for. Arya seemed to be realising that now too, slowly. She hadn't gotten used to the idea that she was all alone, but with Nieve, she felt companionship again, genuine and untreacherous.

Nieve even became comfortable to tell Arya of her intensions in Braavos. Her search was still on by day, but no sight of Tyrion Lannister was found. She would spend her days searching and then join Arya every night for training, Nieve admired Arya's commitment - well to be perfect honest Nieve admired her own commitment at first, but with her friendship with the young wolf progressing, so did her will to train her.

One evening Nieve had brought up the question of love, whether Arya had had any interests or betrothals before. Arya laughed, dodging a blow from Nieve's spear.

"Definitely not. I don't want to be anyone's lady. Although…"

"Although what?" Nieve struck out again, Arya just managing to flick the spear away with Needle.

"You know the boy I travelled with, the blacksmith?"

"Gendry, right?"

"Yeah," Arya pants, "I always thought if I'd ever love someone it would be him."

Nieve let up on the attacks. Letting Arya catch her breath but mostly because she was curious to hear more.

"What happen to him?" She asks.

"He was taken from me." she spits, "By a witch. The Red Woman."

Nieve inhaled sharply. She'd met the Red Woman before. She told Arya of how she visited the Temple in her training. Looking for skilled fighters to do her bidding. A women who seemed pleasant, but was cold, ruthless and manipulative. Nieve hated her more after Arya told her what she did, how she never saw Gendry again.

"She grabbed me too, she said these exact words to me 'I see a darkness in you. and in that darkness, eyes staring back at me. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green eyes. Eyes that

will shut forever - we will meet again.' What do you think it means?" Arya said anxiously.

Nieve's hearts stammered, does this woman possess the sight like her? Nieve had never known anyone like her, maybe she would know how to control it. Use it. She would

keep all this quiet from Arya for now.

"I'm not sure." Nieve wasn't lying, it was pure conjecture behind the meaning of her statement. "Maybe she knew you were coming here - intending to take a face…?"

Arya shuddered, "I refuse to take a new face!"

"You do know that's not what I'm trying to teach you, right?" Nieve sighed.

Arya frowned.

"I'm teaching you how to not be indoctrinated, become a slave for someone else's bidding. Take a new face, wear different clothes, put on new accents. Just remember

where you came from, just remember who you are."

"Then why didn't you?" Arya challenges.

"I didn't have someone teaching me - there was no one to talk to about home when I was here. I knew if I took a new face, I would forget myself - I didn't want to feel like a different person, I would let myself go so far as to act, pretend, manipulate even. But I feared I'd be someone else entirely with a new face."

Arya nods. Nieve hopes her lesson is learnt,and they continue sparring in silence.

If Nieve was honest it was her sight that prevented her most from taking a new face. The dreams she had plagued her each night, dreams of her family and home, that connection was too strong to shake from her identity. She yearned to learn to control it, and if she could find the Red Woman, although she loathed the idea of asking for her help, maybe knew how to bend the sight to Nieve's will.

But first her vengeance must be served, she had received word from Clea, that Tyrion had come to the brothel, and that he would be back in a couples nights time. Nieve vowed she would be there before he entered, to cut off his cock and pierce his heart with her knife. So on the night of his return to the brothel, Nieve waited. Arya had been annoyed Nieve cancelled on their truing but Nieve knew she would understand once she told her she was getting her vengeance.

She hid crouched in the bushes outside the entrance. She saw a small cloaked figure, walking briskly to the Brothel. She waited until he was next to the bush and pounced, dragging him into the bush with her. Tyrion was shoved on his back into the dirt. Nieve was kneeling over him, knee crushing into his windpipe, she drew her blade.

"I knew Cer- Cersei would send s- some eventually." He stammers, short of breath.

_He thinks the Lannisters sent me,_ Nieve thinks. _Well, let's correct that shall we._

"I'm not paid by the Lannisters, Imp. I am the daughter of Oberyn Martell. He died for your pathetic life, and now I will have my vengeance, and kill every last Lannister."

Nieve growls.

Tyrion's face is turning purple,. "Okay, well I've already helped you a bit in that domain." he blurts out.

Nieve doesn't let up force, but stares at him in curiosity, "What do you mean?"

But Tyrion doesn't get the chance to respond. Nieve felt the presence behind her and mentally kicks herself for listening to the Imp rather than just killing him.

"Nieve Sand." The eunuch's voice says gently.

Nieve squeezes her eyes shut in frustration,"Fuck." She exhales sharply before addressing: "Varys." She doesn't turn around but she can hear the smile in his voice. _Nothing phased the spider._

"Let him go." Varys commands, "He's on your side."

"I find that hard to believe." Nieve spits back, glaring at Tyrion paralysed under her choke.

Varys' voice is a closer now, standing right behind Nieve from what she could tell, "He killed Tywin Lannister."

"What?" Nieve was unconvinced, but she had let up her grip a bit.

"I shot him, two bolts to the chest." Tyrion piped.

"And why you do that?"

Tyrion makes a noise that sounds like a laugh, but is smothered with pain and defeat:

"Frankly, I'm questioning why I hadn't done it sooner."

**So excited I get to write some sassy Tyrion and Varys scenes with Nieve. Please feedback on whether you like the character, or whether I should focus a bit more into her's and Arya's relationship - wasn't sue if I'd made Nieve's intentions clear with what she hopes to achieve with Arya, but really wanted to show that dynamic as they do have similar traits.**

**Well, thanks for reading and I'll see you for Chapter 3 - ****_It's Not All Black And White_**


	4. It's Not All Black And White

**Hey Hey, sorry it's taken a while to upload, I've been on holiday. I'm going to try get the next chapter out in a couple of days. **

**Thanks for the new favourites, follows and reviews from:**

**I'mAFirestarter - 'twisted firestarter' (sorry had to be done)**

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**I hope I haven't missed anyone. But also a huge thanks to those who have stuck with the start from the start too - you know who you are.**

**But here you go;**

_Chapter 3 - It's Not All Black And White_

_I should have just killed the imp before he opened his mouth. _Nieve stands sourly in the corner of a brothel chamber. Varys had convinced her to listen to their side. Clea had left the room to let them discuss alone. They hadn't explained much, just about Tyrion's trial, and then when he managed to escape he paid his father a visit in the privy…

Tyrion doesn't seem too cut up about it, lying across the bed hands rested behind his head, but Nieve knew better: he looks shaggy, exhausted and broken. Only habit of his defensive bravado is holding this man together now. But Nieve still doesn't know why he and Varys were in Braavos. Why hadn't they moved on yet? Somewhere out of reach from the King's spies.

"So, I'm supposed to believe," Nieve challenges angrily, this was the first time she'd spoken having listened silently to their plea, "that Tywin Lannister who is the most powerful man in Westeros was killed by you?"

"If you don't believe me, by all means go back to Westeros and find proof, it won't be hard - I imagine it's what _everyone_ is talking about." Tyrion says glibly, examining his nails.

Varys seemed rather distracted too, peering out between the curtains, but Nieve would prefer speaking to him over Tyrion right now. She may have let the Lannister live so far, but anymore sassy comments and she'd justify that he was asking for it.

She asked the question that had been bugging her for weeks: "What are you doing in Braavos?"

"Here is safer now than anywhere, it's been a month now since our disappearance from the Capital. No one would suspect we'd still be in Braavos."

Seemed rather a diplomatic, weak response to Nieve, but it's what she expected from a politician. If she wanted answers she'd need to speak with Tyrion one-on-one.

"I want to speak to the Lannister alone." Nieve demands. Varys seems weary but calmly agrees. Tyrion however is a lot more opposed to the idea.

"What if she tries to kill me again?" He says desperately to Varys.

Varys raises his eyebrows in apathy, "And what am I meant to do? Stop her?" His pompous bald head shining like his silk garment, as he walks to the door.

"I thought you were here to protect me." Tyrion pouts.

Varys smiles, "You're confusing me with Bronn. And unlike him - I've protected you thus far without demanding a single coin." Varys exits the room.

Nieve starts, "Good. Now you and me are alone -"

"- I appreciate the interest," Tyrion interrupts smoothly, "but I just got out of a complicated relationsh-"

"-Shut it. I have questions and you're going to answer them; without the spider's spin." Nieve walks over to the bed, standing over the suddenly tense looking Lord, but his defensiveness kicks in again.

"Afraid I can't my lady - if this information gets out the whole realm would be in jeopardy."

"Right now you're in jeopardy." Nieve produces a concealed knife from behind her back and points it towards his crotch._ This brothel really wasn't great on their security checks._

Tyrion sits up, eyeing the blade. "You promised you'd spare my life-"

"-You killed Tywin, my enemy, and for that I owe you your life, so I gave you my word that I wouldn't kill you but I have no quarrel with giving you something in common with the eunuch out there." She nods to the door.

Tyrion thinks aloud sardonically, "Why is it all cold and beautiful women want me dead or tortured?"

"Must be your charming and humble demeanour," Nieve smirks, "now tell me: Why are you here, Tyrion?"

He looks at her, then to the knife and back her again. He sighs deeply, and explains.

"Alright, fine. King Robert's bastard is believed to be here in Braavos - he's the heir to the Iron Throne. He could potentially be a rightful and good king - we need to find out his character."

Nieve didn't know what she had expected, but she sure as seven hells hadn't been expected that answer. _So Tyrion and Varys were on the side of the realm, and plotting to overthrow the Lannisters. _For once she agreed with the King's councilmen. And a Lannister at that. She had never got on well with bureaucrats.

"Who is he?"

"A poor blacksmith boy from flea bottom. Gendry's his name."

"What? Did you say his name was Gendry?" Nieve says in disbelief._ A Blacksmith from Flea Bottom, was it coincidence or the same Gendry?_ _Arya had failed to mention he was the son of Robert Baratheon!_

"Yes, Gendry. Pay attention, it's bad enough I'm telling you all this _once_," Tyrion groans, "I'm spilling confidential information to a woman who wants my family dead."

"Don't act you that's not what you want too." Nieve says smugly. Tyrion glares at her but he knows it's partly true.

"Where is Gendry?"

Tyrion looks pained,"I can't-"

"-I'm not going to hurt him. Think of him as a sort of friend of a friend."

Tyrion looked puzzled but responds anyway, painfully aware that the knife is still pointed at his trousers.

"We were just informed tonight, that he's smithing in the lower town, we're going to meet him tomorrow."

Nieve places the blade back into it's sheath, she stares Tyrion down, making her judgements; Can she trust him? Of course not, but she can trust in their cause. If they could reclaim the Throne to a rightful King - without war, then she was all for crushing the Lannisters power. Tyrion stares her back, unsure as to her motives. Nieve sees the surprise and confusion on his face as she says:

"I'm in."

**...**

"So you support our cause?" Varys and Nieve walk the gardens next to the brothel. Tyrion had insisted on some time alone with Clea.

"…whilst the Lannisters sit on the iron throne." Nieve admits, fiddling with her leather wrist straps. She wasn't the fiddling type, but she felt guilty. She was here to get revenge, which she still desired, but she found herself being sucked into the game, the same way her father had. Curiosity had got the best of her. Had she not known Arya Stark, the name Gendry wouldn't mean a thing to her. Now she felt compelled to find him, for Arya's sake.

The sun had gone down now, but torches were lit and guiding there path. Varys pauses suddenly as they reach a fountain. He turns on Nieve with all seriousness, "Would you be willing to do some work in espionage?"

Nieve laughed in disbelief, "…become one of your little birds?" Hadn't he asked enough of her already for not killing Tyrion.

"Well your skill set is much more advanced than eavesdropping and letter carrying. But I suppose yes; however I'd need you for a much more dangerous task."

"Which is what?" Nieve huffs.

"I'd need your word that you will agree before I speak a word of this."

"And why would I do that, Varys. We haven't seen each other in years, we're not friends, I don't owe you anything."

"I beg to differ. But fair enough, I know you will keep this to yourself."

_Well, that was a quick change of tone, _Nieve frowns.

"I hear that Stannis Baraethon is at the wall, and that vile red woman, Lady Melisandre continues to whisper enchantments in his ear. Castle Black also holds someone, potentially very significant to the realm: Jon Snow."

_Arya's bastard brother?_ "What about him?"

Varys has an expression Nieve could only describe as smug a majority of the time, but that had nothing on the look he was giving Nieve now.

"You have heard of the prophecy? Of prince that was promised?"

"Azor Ahai… But what has that got to do with Snow?"

Varys' eyes grew solemn, "I knew Ned Stark. Didn't trust him at first, but he was a good man - an honourable man. It would seem…" Varys paused to put it delicately, "…out of sorts for him to father a bastard."

Nieve knew it seemed far fetched, but she extended her disbelief for a moment and indulged Varys' musings.

"So if Jon Snow isn't Ned's son, who's son is he then?" She asks.

"Around the time Jon was born, Rhegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark went missing…"

It hit Nieve instantly.

She thought of her vision in that moment, the one she had when she was a little girl:

the single blue Rose in the vast wall of ice.

"Jon's Lyanna's son! A Blue flower in an ice wall. And Rhegar's. So Jon's a Targaryen." Nieve's mind is racing, she doesn't even realise she saying the words out loud. "And you think he has the potential to be the prince that was promised?"

Varys nods with a smile, "A likely candidate, I believe. But it is still just speculation at the moment; sadly, the truth died with Ned Stark. But if Jon has Targaryen blood, he could suit another prophecy too." Varys looks at Nieve knowingly, "One I think you know already?"

Nieve looks back at him, genuinely confused.

"Your greensight would allow it I presume." He finishes.

Nieve tries not to look shocked but she fears she's failing miserably, "What are you talking about?"

Varys frowns in concern, "Seems you don't remember…" He wonders over to a stone bench, and gestures for Nieve to join him. She looks at him warily but agrees, desperate to know what he knows. Varys begins, "I once came to the Sunspear on a visit by order of King Robert. I was to spy on the Martells; find out their plans if they had any interest in taking king's landing now that the Mad King was dead. I met you on my visit. You must have been no more than four, but you were always a spry girl, you were playing in the fountains of the Great Gardens,"

Nieve stares at him dumbfounded, she had no memory of this.

He continues, "I sat on the edge of the fountain as you splashed away. You told me you thought I was a funny looking man and I assured you I was." Varys smiles at the ground. "You said yesterday your body trembled violently and that you had a 'dream in the day'. I asked what you meant, and you told me you saw a dragon - with three heads; one head was white with fur, the second with a golden mane, and the third with a collar round it's neck."

Nieve had seen that image in her dreams at night, true. But never of what she could remember in the day - her day dreams were rare. Too young to understand that such a condition must be kept secret, she had unbeknownst to her memory, had another day vision and told the Spider of her condition. Nieve's hand instinctively, attempts to reach for her blade. But Varys raises a hand calmly.

"Don't worry. I have told no one our little secret." He promises.

"Why?" Nieve notices her voices is sharper, her breathe dire and heart pounding in her ears. This was the closest she had come to scared in years, since she was a young girl leaving for Braavos. Varys seems honest in tone though.

"I knew someday your talents would come in use." He admits, "I'd need your trust. And you'd given me a glimpse into the future for this realm. With this knowledge, I owe you a lot. It was the least I could do to keep your gift a secret."

_Gift! Nieve snorts. _If you only knew what pain this sight caused. She didn't feel special, she couldn't control it to her will, nor could she even understand most of her dreams and visions. But she kept all this quiet, better have Varys think she has the upper hand.

"Thank you." Nieve says graciously, "So Jon is what?" She attempts to move the subject back off her and onto Snow, "- the white fur headed dragon?"

Varys nods again, "For the stark's sigil of a direwolf. The stark children have their own wolves - I hear Jon snow has one too, an albino wolf."

Her mind focuses on the other heads he'd described: the slaver's collar and the lion's head. It was clearer now. She understood.

"And you know who the other two heads are, don't you?" She says, but she knew his response already.

Varys nods gravely. "Daenarys Stormborn of house Targaryen and Tyrion Lannister. I have heard rumours of the Targaryen's affairs for many years, and they all seem to suit the description of the prophecy."

"I presume Tyrion doesn't know?" Nieve questions.

"Yes. And I should like to keep it that way for now. he's in a fragile state, now's not the time to distress him further of his true heritage."

Nieve was still hazy on the hows, when's and why's, but in Tyrion's case she preferred not knowing the details of his parentage. He imp irritated her but she didn't want to be the one potentially telling him that all along he isn't a Lannister. At the moment Tyrion was blissfully ignorant as to his possible identity, Nieve knew what it was like to be an outsider in your own family like Tyrion was, but she also knew the pain of wish to know one's true parents. She didn't want to lose her temper on Tyrion, and steal that ignorance away from him.

She redirects her thoughts to Varys' proposition.

"So my mission?"

"Go to Castle Black. Keep an eye on Jon Snow. Befriend him. Find clues into his potential role in the prophecies, sway his thoughts away from Stannis' cause, and above all protect him from the red woman. We can't afford to loose him to corruption. If I'm right, if this all goes to plan - we will finally have a worthy king or queen, for the good of the realm."

"This sounds like the slow revenge I was trying to avoid." Nieve sighs, it wasn't the way she wanted to do things, but she felt a duty to it, for Arya, and for the realm to save them from the Dark Night and the Lannister's tyranny.

"But no less deadly I can assure you." Varys' looks out across the garden.

"For whom?" Nieve grumbles.

"That part's down to you." He turns to Nieve. She holds his gaze, understanding his warnings.

"I'll do it." Nieve sighs, Varys looks a little relieved. "But don't expect me to suck up to any self proclaimed kings, evil witches, or bratty northern lords. If I do this - I do it my way."

Varys' relief disappeas instantly, judging that Nieve and tact didn't exactly go hand in hand. "Spoken like a true daughter of Oberyn Martell. But just keep yourself and the Bastard boy alive. And can I suggest some humility? It can get you further than you'd expect."

Nieve huffs, but she knew he had a point. She was Martell bred - Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken, but this mission requires her to do something she wasn't so used to; subtlety and diplomacy. She sighs again heavily. She can't believe she is now going to help Varys and the Lannister.

_Yep_, She thinks,_ I definitely should have killed the imp before he opened his mouth._

**Well what do you think? Please leave comments and reviews, favourites and follows.**

**I love writing Varys' dialogue - he's one of my favourite characters. My favourite characters are Tyrion and Ygritte :'( so sad she's gone. But post me your favourite characters, maybe Nieve might cross their path; who knows? ;P (Jon Snow certainly doesn't) **

**Wow I'm really making a habit out of these cringey jokes. *facepalm***

**I'm also going to put the links to the theory vids I've based the stories around, just in case you're unfamiliar with the prophecies, even if you are I'd recommend watching this channel anyway, it's really fascinating.**

**Azor Ahai** \- watch?v=O3o2LqFZcGU&amp;spfreload=10

**R+L=J** \- watch?v=kHqzFwodZqQ&amp;spfreload=10

**Tyrion's parents** \- watch?v=eqVhKOxmJCw&amp;spfreload=10

**I haven't actually read all the books so if I do get anything wrong about the lore, theories and prophecies please message privately - any info would be helpful. but bare i mind i do have a plan for what will happen as this fix continues and it is still AU so try not to get swept away with what's correct and what is not. It might be i've considered it already and chosen to change that element.**

**Anyway thanks again for reading, see you for Chapter 4 - ****_Against a Wall_**


	5. Against A Wall

**Whoops and cheers for the new episode! (Badass Jon being badass as ever.)**

**I wrote this chapter before I saw the new episode, and I haven't read the books, so I was taking a long shot as to what would happen in season 5, and so very glad my story isn't too far off from what goes on in the show.**

**Thanks as usual for the support. More and more followers everyday which is unbelievable, so truly thank you.**

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**It's a long one, longest by far yet. Hope you like it:**

_Chapter 4 - Against A Wall_

The rest of the evening Varys spent filling Nieve in on everything he'd gather in his years spying in Kings landing. He had agreed with Nieve that if she were to fully understand the wall, she'd need to know the history's of the men living there. Once she'd felt she'd gather enough intelligence, she excuses herself.

"I have a meeting with a friend." And she was off before Varys could stop her.

It was very late, but she knew she would still find her, practising, waiting just in case Nieve showed.

…

Arya sits waiting as usual by the docks. She looks bored and disappointed, tapping Needle against a rock.

"You know, an assassin's no good with a dulled blade." Nieve says from behind her.

But Arya isn't in the mood, "Where have you been?"

"I told you. Tending to my revenge."

Arya softens up then. "Is the imp dead then? What did it feel like?"

"It didn't feel like anything because I didn't kill him."

"Why not?" Arya looked furious. No doubt she wanted as many Lannister dead as much as Nieve.

"We struck an agreement instead." Nieve says, rationally.

"What agreement?"

"Afraid I can't tell of yet."

Arya snapped, "You can be a right shit, you know that!"

"Oh, grow up, Stark! Is this your revenge or mine?!"

Arya says nothing but her glare doesn't let up.

Nieve continues, attempting reason. "Killing him wouldn't have made a difference-"

"-Not what your always telling me-"

"-because he wasn't the one responsible for my father's death. Tywin was. Cersai was. And the Mountian. You're the one with the list, surly you understand that revenge is only served on the ones responsible."

"So why haven't you killed them then?"

"Because my family is at war with the Lannisters. They wouldn't want me coming between that. _I_ don't want to come between that. And thanks to

Tyrion; Tywin's already dead."

Arya's eyebrows raise in shock, but she composes herself quickly. The way she'd taught herself. "So what? He takes _your_ revenge from you and now _you're_ in his dept?"

Nieve shakes her head. "_My_ revenge? _His_ revenge? We all have vendettas. Not all justice is executed by our hand. You had Joffrey on your list did you not? Did you poison him?"

Arya doesn't respond.

"No," Nieve answers for her, "but you sure felt better knowing the bastard was dead, right?"

Arya is quiet. But she knows Nieve is right.

"Good." Nieve says aggrievedly, "Now shall we move on to the training?"

But Arya isn't done, "What was the agreement?"

"Arya-"

"- you said I tell you things about myself and in exchange you do too! That was our arrangement."

_You_ _hadn't quite been honest about Gendry though, had you? _Nieve thought spitefully. But she didn't bring it up. She couldn't tell her Gendry might be in the city, get her hopes up. He could be gone, or worse dead. Nieve didn't want to be the barer of bad news. She didn't want Arya to endure another loss, she was too young to know such suffering.

"We're long past arrangement's Arya - we're friends. So trust me, I'll tell you everything tomorrow, Arya, I promise. Right now, I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need your protection."

"Then what the seven hells have I been doing with you all these weeks, then?"

Arya glares.

"Just trust me. By tomorrow you'll know everything."

Arya agreed reluctantly.

_So damn stubborn. _Nieve draws her blade, and Arya stands in stance, Needle in hand. Nieve strikes unexpectedly, but Arya is ready for her. Blocking her attack over and over.

"Now remind me who you are?" Nieve says, no holding back with her swipes with her sword.

Arya blocks again. "A facelessman in training", she huffs.

"Good." Nieve ducks and swipes her leg to take out Arya's balance. "Now who are you really?"

Arya jumps, missing the swipe just in time. "I'm Arya's stark. Daughter to Lord Eddark stark of Winterfell. My mother, father and brother were killed by the Lannisters. My sister is missing. So are Bran and Rickon. And Jon is at the wall. As far as I know."

Nieve's thoughts wondered to the vision of the blue flower clinging to the wall. Arya takes her shot whilst Nieve is distracted.

"Yes!" She celebrates, having for the first time nicked Nieve's hand. The blood seeps out.

"Well done." Nieve says unimpressed. "One cut to the fifty I've given you."

Arya rolls her eyes. "Your just bitter cos got you."

Nieve grins. "Then come get me again, stark!"

…

Nieve tried to sleep the rest that night but dreams were more vivid than ever. It was the three headed dragon. She knew the true meaning of the vision, but her dreams still mocked her, as this time the dream changed. Only slightly. But this time, she saw Arya standing under the giant beast. She was crying. She was angry. Needle drawn and pointing to a threat that Nieve could not see. It looked like Arya was protecting the dragon. Arya lashed forwards with the blade, realising that what she was protecting the beast from, was Nieve…

Nieve woke with a start. Panting, dripping sweat. She sat up, taking deep breaths and places her bare feet on the cold stone floor. Nieve rubs her eyes, frustrated.

She hopes that dream was simply all it was; a dream. No premonition, or vision. But it felt different from the ones she had most nights. It felt foggy and uncertain.

Nieve stares at the pale light glowing from the window. At least the sun would rise soon.

_No going back to sleep now._ She sighs.

…

"Up!" Nieve storms into the brothel chamber, "Get up. Now."

Clea was still half asleep, and Tyrion woke grumbling, he evidently had been drinking again, Nieve had smelt the stench from the doorway. He lay strewn half naked on the bed, face down in Clea's bosoms.

"I don't believe my time is up yet." His voice muffled.

Nieve knew Clea would be annoyed to find her driving away her customers, but she knew Clea had always been slow in the mornings. She wouldn't catch on until they were gone.

"Oh didn't you know? Clea doubles her charge with overnights."

Tyrion blinks in shock and swiftly turns to Clea, "It has been an absolute pleasure my dear, but duty calls." He jumps out of the bed, picks up his shirt quickly and exits with

Nieve, only to quickly dash back into the room again.

"What are you doing?" Nieve hisses urgently from the corridor.

"Forgot the wine." He calls after Nieve. "An absolute pleasure." he says again to a confused Clea, and then exits again in a hurry, wine in hand.

Nieve and Tyrion walk briskly down the corridor. Tyrion finally comes to his senses, realising what Nieve said was a lie to drive him out of bed.

"That was a mean trick." Is all he mumbles.

Nieve tries to hold in her laughter, but fails.

Tyrions rolls his eyes, and swigs the wine bottle, mumbling at her again, "I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal with you."

…

Nieve and Tyrion meet with Varys in the lower town. Tyrion hadn't sobered up anymore than Nieve expected of him, and Nieve hadn't stopped threatening Tyrion anymore than he'd expected of her. Varys tried to diffuse the tension as usual, but was more focused on the plan with Gendry:

"…He's most likely cautious of those from King's Landing, and especially of Lannisters." Varys gives Tyrion a stern look as they walk down the street. They're a couple of stalls away from the Blacksmiths now. "He doesn't suspect us to know anything, but he'll probably recognise Lord Tyrion. So, I recommend a little decorum-

"-Yes, yes. We get it. 'Don't drive the bastard away.' Got it." Tyrion says boredly. And he walks head of the two and right into the Blacksmiths.

Nieve and Varys curse and dash after him.

The smiths is empty, all except for a young man, hammering at a breast plate. He doesn't notice the three enter the shop.

"Hey you." Tyrion barks at the boy "Yeah you, the bastard prince. Where could I get dwarfian armour? Apparently the Dornish are now after me too."

Nieve cringes,_ Dear gods, The man had less tact and subtly than me!_

Gendry gives a double take. "Your Tyrion lannister!" he says in disbelief.

"The infamous imp. Yes, it's me. And your the King's bastard that just won't die."

Gendry looked worried, he shakes his head, "I'm just a smith." He lies.

Varys steps in swiftly, "Don't worry, dear boy. We're all friends among us."

"Haven't you heard?!" Tyrion mocks again, "The queen regent wants my head - something about killing her son…"

Gendry blinks.

Nieve glares at Tyrion. She shouldn't have let him keep the wine, he was going to ruin everything.

"What he means to say is we're not here to harm, but help." she adds, calmly. "This is Lord Tyrion, Lord Varys. And I'm Nieve."

Gendry blushes at her. Most men who met Nieve did. Nieve found it came in handy…

Gendry clears his throat, realising he was staring. "What is it you want from me?" He continues pounding with the hammer.

Varys speaks loudly, "We know of your real birth status. We need you to find a way to prove your royal claim."

"We need any information that you've got, maybe something can be provided as evidence against the Lannister's tyranny." Nieve pleads.

Gendry stops hammering. "But What if I don't want to be a king?"

Tyrion huffs, "Then you're a wasted trip, good bye-" he turns to walk out.

But Nieve grabs him by the back of the collar like a child misbehaving. "-Wait! Gendry. Just hear us out." She requests.

Gendry shakes his head. "How can I even trust you?"

Nieve pauses. She didn't want to have to tell them all of Arya but she could think of no other motive.

"I believe you know a friend of mine. Arya stark."

Gendry's face lights up. "Is she alive?"

Nieve nods, "She's well and safe, and more of a fighter than ever."

She could feel Varys and Tyrion's eyes on her in disbelief. But Nieve ignores them and continues.

"She'd want to see you. And I gather you'd want to see her. But only if you listen to Varys here. He'll explain everything. And he'll give you a choice. And then you make up your mind. No force, no judgement on whatever you choose. Just hear us out, and then I'll tell you were to find Arya."

Gendry still looks in awe at the thought of Arya, "Does she know I'm here?" he asks hopefully.

"No. I didn't want to get her hopes up if you were dead. She'd be so happy to see you again." Nieve walks closer to the young man, offering him a hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Varys looks at Nieve with a slight admiration. Tyrion seems otherwise uninterested and unimpressed. But the only approval Nieve seeks is Gendry's.

He takes her hand. Nieve exhales in relief.

"Okay, me and Tyrion will leave you two to it." She grabs the imp by the collar again.

He shakes her off. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Fancy being the quarter man?" Nieve threatens.

"Great meeting you, Gendry. Hope you accept our proposal!" And Tyrion stumbles drunkly out of the shop with Nieve.

…

"What was all that nonsense about Arya stark?"

Tyrion and Nieve sit at a table in a tavern, nearby the blacksmiths. Nieve didn't bother stopping the Lannister from draining cup after cup. _Maybe this way he'll kill himself._

"What nonsense?" Nieve says' absentmindedly, she had he eyes on the entrance waiting for Varys to arrive with Gendry's decision.

"She's been missing for months, you don't know where she is." He challenges.

"Maybe I do, Lannister. But I'm more concerned with your little act back there." Her eyes come to glare at the drunken Lord. "You almost cost us Gendry's trust. You can't introduce yourself like that!"

Tyrion makes a sickly burp, "Why the hell not? I was just being honest and direct."

"You were the hand to the King, you must know how to play the game." Nieve looks at him in disgust.

"Fuck the game! I won't dance around the gravestones any longer." He raises his cup, before preceding to empty it down his throat.

Nieve shakes her head, "Well I hate to break it to you, but your still playing."

"Yes but not by their rules, not anymore." He pours himself another glass.

_I don't know how he does it. _Nieve thought. Then she realised she doesn't know why he does it. She looks at Tyrion - properly looks at him - and she see's what she saw when she first met him; a broken man.

"What happened to you?" she says softly.

He places the bottle down, "Everyone told me I was born a monster. Pretty soon I came to believe it too."

Nieve shakes her head, "No, no, no. This is more than that. This is more than the self pitying, "I'm-a-monster-shit"."

Tyrion glares at her for that. But Nieve ignores him, determined.

"What happened to you? What drove you to kill your father?"

He sways in his chair. "I don't owe you that."

"You took my revenge, you owe me an explanation."

Tyrion's eyes land on her, all sarcasm, all defence gone. He sighs. "I made the treacherous error that I'd once made before." He takes another gulp. "I fell in love."

Nieve didn't expect that answer, but all made sense as to why this man was so broken.

"I presume it didn't end well."

"I found her in my father's bed. And then I killed her." He says, eyes fixed on the cup in front of him, tears threatening to overflow.

Nieve felt a rare pang of guilt and pity. "I'm sorry." She says genuinely.

Tyrion blinks back his tears, and yells angrily at Nieve, "Why would you give a shit? All you do is kill, or try to anyway!"

The guilt and pity is gone, Nieve is up and has Tyrion's arm in a lock before he could realise it. His head smacks onto the table.

"That's right imp, all I do is kill, so you better watch your mouth." Nieve doesn't care that the eyes of the tavern are on them.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry." Tyrion winces.

Nieve releases him. She sits back down. The conversations around the tavern continue.

"For the record, I don't try." Nieve mutters, "When I want to kill someone, I always succeed."

Tyrion takes another sip and massages the ache from Nieves hold in his arm.

They sit quietly for a while. Nieve watches him sadly. "You have no anger left do you?"

Tyrion laughs cynically, "This is what happens when you achieve your vengeance, Sand. Take a good look."

Nieve grumbles, "I don't know what Varys sees in you."

"He's a loyal friend, but I can assure that's all he is-"

_And back to the wise comments. _Nieve groans.

"-Wasn't what I meant, and you know it." Nieve's eyes roll. "Listen I'm not gonna tell you to put down the bottle and get your fucking personal shit together. That's your choice. But Varys chose us. We could help people; from corrupt kings, from the dark night. This is more important than your self pity."

"And why are you so taken all of a sudden with Varys cause?" His eyes narrow on Nieve, "You abandoned your vendetta. Disappointed your father."

"Maybe." It was something she felt guilty about too. "But I know my revenge will come in time." She says, more certainly than she feels.

Tyrion meets her eye's again. This time he expresses the pity, "That's something your father thought too."

Nieve looks down at the table, she found herself fiddling with her leather straps again. "I figured why not get my revenge, and try save millions of lives."

"Hmm." Is all Tyrion says, suspiciously.

Nieve tries to compose her answer, "I'm a killer, but I don't want to let it define me. The way you have."

He raises is glass to her again, "Valar Morgulis." and downs it once more.

In that moment Varys enters. He looks defeated but Nieve wasn't sure if it meant news, she still couldn't quite read the Spider's face.

"The boy listened." Varys begins.

"And?" Nieve looks at him, hopefully. But she's certain she already knows the answer.

Varys just shakes his head. Nieve and Tyrion share a glance.

Then Tyrion wordlessly hands her the bottle, and she takes a large gulp.

...

"Arya?" Nieve says calmly. They sit at the docks, breaking from training. "A promise is a promise. I said I'd tell you the deal I struck with the Lannister."

Arya listens silently.

Nieve begins, "I did it for my revenge, for the innocent of Westeros, and it was for you."

Arya frowns. "What does that mean?"

Nieve had been putting it off saying this, but knew she had to at some point: "It means that this is my last night training you.

Arya didn't scream like Nieve expected, but stares at the ground, upset. "Why?" She asks, but her voice chokes slightly.

Nieve felt horrible, "You knew this couldn't last forever."

"Your leaving me."

_I think I'd prefer the screaming now. _"I know you must hate me, but I can explain."

And so she does. She tells Arya everything. About Vary's plans with Nieve; about how she's off the wall, and what Jon could mean to the realm. Arya sat and the more she listened the more she seemed to understand.

"…But I have a surprise for you." Nieve says excitedly at the end of her explanation.

Arya raises her eyebrows in query, "What are you talking about?"

Nieve grins. "Turn around."

Arya turns. Her face drops.

Gendry smiles at her in disbelief. And then jokingly bows, "Milady."

Arya reacts like they hadn't spent a moment apart, and punches him in the gut lightly. He giggles. She laughs and jumps up, wrapping her arms around the lad and squeezes him into an embrace.

Nieve grins even wider.

"Thank you" Gendry says to Nieve over Arya's shoulder.

Nieve nods.

Arya drops down to the ground again. Turning to Nieve, she looks at her in gratitude and hugs her too.

"I'm sorry I must leave, Stark. But at least this way you won't be alone." Nieve says in Arya's ear.

"This won't be goodbye." Arya promises.

"Take care of yourself." Nieve and Arya break apart. Nieve begins to head up the stairs leaving the two to catch up, but more in hopes of slipping away before it got too painful.

"Oh, and Gendry?" Nieve calls back. "If you hurt her, I'd make the threat that I'd kill you but I wouldn't need to - she'd do it herself."

Gendry looked terrified and uncomfortable. Arya smiles.

"Nieve!" Arya calls after her. She runs to catch up to her. "Valar morgulis." She says and presses the iron coin into Nieve's Palm. "So you can find me again."

"Can't say I'm sad to see you go." Tyrion says.

He, Varys and Nieve stood at the ports waiting for Nieve's ship to depart.

"And I to see you breathing but hey, what you gonna do?" Nieve shrugs playfully.

Tyrion smiles, "I wish you the best of luck, Lady Sand."

"It's Nieve." She corrects him with a smile. "And you Lannister. Don't go falling in love with Clea now."

"Ouch." He pretends to clutch at his heartstrings.

Nieve laughs. She had noticed Tyrion looked sober for the first time.

"Tyrion." She nods at him.

He nods back. "Nieve."

She begins to walk away when he calls out to her:

"Oh and, give my condolences to Jon for me - in regards to his family. We were friends once, can't see I'll be seeing him again anytime soon."

In a strange way she hoped someday he could be the one to tell him that himself. But that seemed far off. But she quips anyway: "Find us a worthy king or queen and tell him yourself."

She hears him huff as she walks away and she smiles again.

She reaches Varys, who stands discussing matters with the ship's captain.

He turns to her, "I never did thank you for getting Gendry to listen to our side."

Nieve shrugs, "It was pointless anyway. He doesn't want to get involved."

"Can't say I blame him." Varys says, "But it reassured me. I picked the right person for this job. Maybe you are capable of diplomacy after all."

Nieve rolls her eyes at his flattery. Varys chuckles.

"Keep safe." He warns "Remember what I've told you. The red woman is not to be trusted."

Nieve nods, but there's doubt in her eyes.

"Varys?" Nieve says seriously, "Promise me this won't end in war."

Varys looks at her solemnly, "My dear, I can't make that promise. But I can promise you, that our cause is just. This goes far beyond the realms of men, bickering over a metal chair. Billions of lives are at stake. The dark night approaches, and we might be able to stop it, before the sun finally falls."

...

Nieve could only dock at Gullstown, the port of the fingers. She knew she still had a long ways to go before Castle Black and she was foreign to the land. She wasn't so keen to follow the kings road, with her dark complexion she could easily be labelled as Dornish, and with the Martell's at war, she didn't know which Houses she could trust. But she needed directions.

So she vaguely wondered north along the coastline. She had been provided a horse by Varys, but she'd never enjoyed riding all that much, although she was traveling faster by horse, she always trusted her own limbs over ones that potential bucked or reared.

About three days into riding, she rode by the woods. She didn't wish to linger but heard voices bickering. One sounded female. She follows it, finding a campsite that looks recently vacated. She trots on, leering through the trees. The voices had stopped now, they must heard have her tracking them. _Damn, horse!_ Nieve curses. _No stealth on a horse._

"Who's there?!" The female voice booms.

Nieve holds her tongue for a moment - trying to gage the woman's accent. Nieve settles too stay Southern. Maybe she'd think her an ally.

"Hello. I beg your pardon. I don't mean to startle, I was just travelling through."

The trees part and Nieve could see the figures clearly now. Their was a young man, dark haired no more than eighteen or so. And a woman, who could easily have be mistaken for another man. Platinum blonde hair, and towering in height. She was clad in armour, whilst the boy dress and red leathers.

"State your business." The woman frowns.

Nieve wanted to scowl at her and tell her _it's my business for a reason _but she needs their help so she holds her temper. "I got lost. Wondering if could help with directions towards Winterfell."

"Winterfell is in ruins." The lady in armour replies. "What need would you have up there?"

"I have friends nearby."

"Take the Kingsroad." The woman dismisses.

"I hear," Nieve calls after her, "it's safer off the beaten track these days."

The woman sighs, but tells her the way: "North East though these woods and you'll reach the port of White Harbour. Follow the river for 10 miles and then head west. You'll cut right across to Winterfell."

Nieve was relieved she was in the right track and not too far from Winterfell now. "Thank you, Lady knight." She says politely, "Is there some way I could repay you help?"

The woman nods, "We're looking for someone. A girl, disguised as a boy, possibly going under the name Ary."

Nieve's thoughts raced, _they're looking for Arya!_ She decides to stir them off scent. "Arya stark you mean?" Nieve says cooly.

"You've seen her?" The boy blurted out, then blushes at Nieve's beauty when she turns to him.

"Yes," Nieve says to him, "she's heading south, I reckon she'd try make it to Dorne. Safest place for her now."

But the woman is unconvinced, "How do we know your not lying?

"Because I don't have a reason to be." Nieve blinked, feigning offence. "She stopped me for directions, guess she thought looked Dornish. But I told her I wouldn't know how to get there anymore than she."

"Thank you." The woman said.

"Glad to repay the favour." Nieve grinned falsely.

"Come on, Pod." The Lady knight begins walking away, and he follows. But the boy's eyes are still fixed on Nieve, so he lags behind.

"PODRICK!"

He snaps out of his enchantment instantly. Dashing to catch up to his mistress, apologising: "Yes, my lady."

_..._

_There it is. The wall. _Once she'd reached Winterfell it had only taken a couple more days of hard riding. Her arse was raw, hands blistered and muscles stiff from the rough, sleepless nights.

She peered from the outskirts of the wood. Baratheon banners lined the wall. It wasn't going to be easy to stay unnoticed. She has donned a fur white cape, and with her horse white she blended in with the scenery quite nicely. But incognito was not her in-game. She had to get on the Crows' good side. She'd thought of the obvious, cutting her hair and pretending to be a man wishing to recruit, but she wasn't sure that that would guarantee her getting close to Jon. Plus she had very feminine features she wasn't convinced she would pass as a male. No she'd have to stay female, less secrets, less risk of anyone finding out why she was truly here. So she went for her latter option.

She stumbled from her horse, trudging towards the castle gates, sobbing._ Northern accent this time_. She reminds herself.

"Please help me." She squeals through the hatch in the door, a young man's face peers through the gap. Stunned at Nieve's presence.

"Please, wildlings took my home, I have know where else to go." Her voice cracks and she sniffles.

The man accepts immediately, falling for her tears. "Open the gates!" He yells.

Once inside, Nieve flings her arms around him for dramatic affect, "Thank you sir, thank you!"

"It's just what we do" He says smugly.

A few other men had began to wonder over to the gate, intrigued by the newcomer. They elbow each other when they see it is a woman.

"Please, is there somewhere I could get warmth?" Nieve begs.

"Follow me." A lad at the back chirps up. He is tall, bulky and has a face like a maggot ridden turnip.

Nieve smiles and follows. She feels the presence of a couple men following behind.

Her fingers twitch…

She follows the men into the castle and down a flight of stairs.

"We keep the visitors rooms in the lower floors." Says turnip boy.

She nods. But something doesn't feel right. She's lead into a small room. It has a fire place, and a bed pushed into the corner. Suddenly, the door slams shut behind her. She turns, and the two men following are stood barricading the door. The room has no other exits. Nieve's temper is already bubbling to overflow, but she tries to keep her cover.

"What's this gentleman?" She says, innocently.

Turnip boy begins etching closer to her.

"Do you know…" he says, something sadistic glinting in his eyes, "…how long it's been since we last had a woman?"

Nieve felt sick, she just glared at him, saying nothing.

"Well actually it was two weeks ago," he laughed, "some young girl seeking refuge much like yourself. But no where near as pretty as you." He looks he up and down with a foul grin. "Besides her family watching made it hard to finish. They kept crying. But you," You raises a gloved finger at Nieve, walking closer to her. "You're all alone."

The two men behind her had their hands on her now, pulling her against the door and holding her firmly as she struggles.

"Careful gents, we don't want her too bruised… makes for a less pretty fuck." Turnip spat.

The others laughed. He was so close to her face now she could feel his rotten breath.

"Me first then." He says, unbuckling his belt.

Nieve snaps. She smacks her forehead into his face. He begins toppling backwards, blood pouring from his broken nose. The other crows grip loosened slightly in shock, just enough for Nieve to twist her arms. She kicked into Turnip boy's body as his falls, using it like a ramp to backflip over. Turnip is pushed to the floor, winded. She pulls her knife, and faster than they could reacted, the two crows beside her drop to their knees; clutching their throats; blood spewing like fountains.

Turnip stares in horror as Nieve calmly sidles toward him.

"Don't worry," she mocks, "_I wont leave any bruises..._" She repeats, and throws the knife at his cock.

He screams.

She's knelt by his side in seconds. Hands wrapping around the blade again.

"..._Makes for a less pretty corpse_." She smiles, yanking the blade down, slicing his prick in two.

He screams louder. Nieve removes the blade to his throat. He looks like he's about to pass out, so Nieve slaps his face to keep him awake.

"No, no, no. Remember my face." She pouts. "I want you to remember a woman did this to you."

He begins to open his mouth to beg, but Nieve can't stand to hear another word from the shit's mouth.

"See you in the seven hells!" She growls, and plunges the blade into his throat.

His body jerks as he coughs up blood, eyes glossy and wide - fixed on Nieve's. She watches them until the go lifeless and his body goes limp.

She removs the knife and wipes it on his furs. Then she notices the state of her own white fur cape.

"Oh Fuck!" She stomps her foot examining the ruined garment.

She looks up, having not noticed that the door to the room was open.

She freezes.

A flock of crows stand surrounding the doorway, staring in shock at her drenched in blood.

Nieve sighs."Oh Fuck."

_Hardly the subtle diplomacy Varys had in mind now is this, Nieve?!_

**Finally at the wall, but things aren't turing out the way she planned it. What will Nieve do now?**

**Should have the next chapter soonish, probably won't be as long as this one though.**

**Follow, favourite, review - and I'll see you then for ****_Chapter 5 - Snake Charmer_**


	6. Snake Charmer

**So sorry it's taken so long to post - I've had so many deadlines and exams and now I've finally broken away for the summer. It is a long chapter so I hope that makes up for it slightly. I promise I will never leave it so long again! I had intended this story to run alongside this season but I can't believe it's almost over already! I wanted to have the whole story written before the canon on the show began to mess with my plot and timeline but having seen so much of this season my story has unwittingly become to reflect what happens in the show - but don't worry I am still trying to write original moments rather than just regurgitating what's happening on the screen. The point of view from here on out won't just be Nieve's perspective but Jon's too.**

**Thanks again for new followers and favouriters - there have been so many - I'm stunned:**

**Dark Angel 792, kelsey112, Percellamillion123, Rayna17, FanWoman18, TwilighterRose, DanielHimura, Ice and Fire dragon, LucyRider17, DrAnime203, JediGemini, Senju Sowdowwen, lokidoki9, Fanisa, LoveisforEternity, ChibiCheshire, raquel14santos, bnoell14, wr0ngBWLficlover69, bennettnasagirl, nightsinshadow, playstep3, Elemental, Nikki, HalloweenBarbie, FreyaHawthorne, . .xxx, potatoe1996, , silo183, kawaiixkisses, CupcakeLoopy.**

**And thank you reviewers - you make my day:**

**Mistoflees - so happy you like the OC, I'll try have more badass moments in the story.**

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**Guest reviewer - thank you, prepare for the long awaited meet of Nieve and Jon.**

**AND AS A MAJOR SORRY FOR THE WAIT I'LL HAVE THE NEXT CHAPTER OUT WITHIN THE NEXT 3 DAYS.**

Chapter 5 - _Snake Charmer_

Fists clenched, jaw tense, and eyes full of fury, Jon walks along the corridors towards the main hall. Sam was blabbering next to him about the killer. Jon could tell it was Sam's attempt to calm him down but it was trivial and it was only making him angrier.

"She looks exotic. Maybe Essos. Well the other brothers say so anyway..."

Jon had given up on listening. He hadn't known the three Night's Watchmen the girl had so brutally killed - they had been based at East Watch and had yet to leave since the election of lord commander. The other men said they weren't the friendliest of brothers, but any man who knelt and said his vows were still brothers.

Sam continued twittering on. But Jon's mind wondered to what this meant now for him. He had only recently become the Lord commander and this breach of security resulting in the death of three brothers, was not helping him prove his good leadership to his men or to Stannis.

_She even had the stones to demand a trial! _Jon growls to himself. _Who does she think she is?_

The girl had been immediately removed by the surrounding brothers and taken to the hall to await her fate. But first Jon wanted to see the bodies. It was a bloody and horrific sight. If he hadn't lived with Wildlings, he wouldn't have believed a woman was capable of this! He knelt over each brother; pulling the lids down over their lifeless eyes and muttering a prayer. He'd stormed out of the room, barking to crows to build a pyre.

"I'll deal with the murderer." He muttered to himself.

"... Where do you reckon she's come from?" Sam asks. Jon snaps out of his thoughts, forgetting Sam was even beside him as they walked. They had almost reached the door to the hall. Jon's stomach lurches, realising everyone would be in there - watching and waiting for his judgement. Jon ignores his question and rounds on Sam with a serious expression.

"Sam. This is my first trial as Commander." Jon says anxiously, "This will determine what kind of leader I am. I know I owe you far too much already but I need you to back me on this. I'll need your support, your judgement too." Sam nods, "Of course, Jon."

Jon nods back in gratitude, "Thank you, Sam."

Not wanting to delay a minute longer Jon hastily enters the hall. All talk falls quiet, eyes bore onto Jon and Sam as they walk through to take their seats, Jon now at the head table.

His eyes find the girl...

She looks no older than he was, slender and with dark bronzed skin, with long honey brown curls. She was a beauty that Jon had could not have dreamed of let alone expected. He understood his men's excitement - they grew tired of looking at other hairy, rough ageing men - so the beauty of a woman was always a welcoming sight among the brothers. Especially a spectacle like Nieve.

Her big hazel eyes meet Jon's, and he draws in a deep involuntary breath. A sharp jolt ran through his body, his head began pulsing, his heart thumping. Jon tries to hold his calm poseur but he can feel Sam's concerned eyes next to him. All the brothers stand watch; waiting for there Lord Commander to begin. Even the girl looks at him with confusion and concern.

_What's happening to me? _Jon asks himself. The pulsing in his head was almost Then there's a flash. Just for a second. And in that flash Jon sees nothing but dark, cold night. He's in a forest, ground laid with fresh snow that was still falling. The only light shines in the distance - a lantern held by a girl. She looks right at him through the darkness, beckoning him closer with her warm hazel eyes; the same eyes of the girl standing in front of him, currently awaiting his judgement. The vision fades as quickly as it appears. Jon goes pale with the blood rushing from his face. The hall was back again, the brothers still waiting and the girl's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Jon..?" Sam's voice whispers to him urgently, and Jon snaps out of rumination. He was half tempted to excuse himself for a moment but he knew that would show weakness to his men. But questions began forming in his head; _what was that? Some sort of vision? How? What did it mean? This girl - who is she and why did she appear to me? _He needed answers but now wasn't the right time to voice this questions in front of his men. Still a little shaken, he addresses the Night's Watch.

"Brothers." He says boldly, or near just about, "We have faced a terrible loss." His eyes come to glare down at the girl now, "All down to this intruder - this murderer, here."

The brothers jeer at Nieve, throwing insults and curses. Jon quieten's them again.

Nieve glares back now. But she knows she has to play this well if she has any hope of getting the Night's Watch to accept her. She acted brash and stupidly but didn't feel a moments guilt or regret for slitting those rapists' throats.

Nieve bows her head and says respectfully - her northern accent still intact, "I request an audience with you alone, Lord commander." The crows begin to laugh. Jon can hardly believe it himself. _She thinks she can make demands?_

"This isn't an audience," Jon yells. "This is a sentencing trial! You lost the right to an audience when you killed three of my brothers. Who are you?"

Nieve doesn't respond, she just shrugs dismissively. Staring him in the eyes again. The young commander is very handsome, but he looks worn; like he was not as young as he should be.

"If you don't answer, I'll have to hurt you." The commander threatens, "Is that what you want?"

_There is nothing you can do to hurt me._ Nieve thought angrily. She was losing it again. "I thought you said this was a sentencing trial - so you're already planning to kill me anyway. What's a little hurt to me now?" She sasses. The men in the hall laugh again in disbelief. She knew humiliating Jon wouldn't help her cause but the man was asking for it.

The commander stands, fists crushed against the wood as he leans over the table, voice low and threatening, "My name is Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, now you will tell us who are or I'll-"

"-You're Jon Snow?!" Nieve interrupts his threat, blinking in surprise. Varys didn't tell her he'd be lord commander! She looks properly at the man now, trying to read him, the way Arya talked of him - to be honest he seemed kind of a green and sensitive lad, not the commander type. But the man stood before her was a true born leader - firm and demanding. She couldn't stop her words in time:

"You made commander in less than four years?" She seems impressed but Jon was more concerned than flattered.

He furrows his brow in confusion. "How do you know how long I've been here?" he straightens up from he lean, eyes curious.

Nieve ignores the question however in distraction, nodding her head in appreciation, "So you're the bastard of Winterfell, eh."

Her mind raced, if Arya and Jon were as close as Arya said they were… "Arya failed to mention your high position here, however, I guess she doesn't receive many ravens…"

Jon took the bate that she'd dangled, forgetting all authority in that moment, "You know Arya?!" He thought he'd never hear that name again.

Nieve smiles smugly, "Yeah, feisty little thing."

"Is she okay?" He asks

"Okay? No. She's gone through the seven hells and back," Nieve sighs, "but she's safe at least." That Nieve truly was grateful for, and she knew now that Jon was engaged - he would listen to her now - now that he'd have questions about Arya.

However Jon forces himself to remember who he's dealing with, he'd been so wrapped up in hearing what he wanted to hear, how could he be sure of Arya's safety?

"And why should I believe you?" He challenges Nieve. Nieve is about to respond when voice cuts across her.

"Apologies for the intrusion, Lord commander," snarls a tall silver haired crow, he sat on the head table with Jon, his voice harsh; not sounding apologetic at all, "but we still don't know who you are and what you are doing here!"

He jabs a finger towards Nieve. But her eyes remain on Jon however. Jon's stare bores back down on her in return, but he says nothing.

Nieve takes a deep breath. "I'm here to help."

A thunder of laughter rattles loudly around the hall again. Nieve ignores them, as does Jon. His eyes scanning her, attempting to read

"Not fucking likely," the silver crow bellows again, "We just captured you for skulking around the wall; attacking our men-" "- I saw the Baratheon soldiers at the gate!" Nieve challenges, "Since when did the wall concern themselves with petty King's wars?"

That shut the men up.

Nieve continues, "You're desperate and outnumbered, I get it. But what's your plan once Stannis is gone?" Nieve looks directly at Jon now, hoping he would be a good enough man to hear reason. "I can help you."

Jon eyes narrow on Nieve. He hated that he couldn't tell whether this woman was telling the truth.

He let's Allister continue his questioning, "The night's watch do not recruit women. How could a woman help?"

And almost on queue, as Nieve would expect, a voice yells from the crowd: "Besides with my cock!"

The men jeer and laugh. Nieve looks to the ceiling for the strength not to kill everyone in this room.

"Quiet!", yells a porky man on the table at the front. He begins banging his cup on his table to settle the chatter.

Jon nods to the man in thanks. Then calmly continues. "You could be a wildling trying to infiltrate our castle. Why would we trust you to help us?"

Nieve respects Jon's diplomacy and tries to sound as empathetic as possible, "Because you need all the help you can get. You defeated the Freefolk's attack. But you know the bigger threat isn't the Freefolk..."

"...Winter is coming." Jon mutters automatically.

Nieve nods. "Even if you get the Freefolk in your side, you're still outnumbered against the army of the dead and don't have enough of the right weapons to take out the Whites."

"Sounds like information a freefolk would know?" Jon said suspiciously.

"Why would I come to Castle Black offering help to the nights watch if I was a Wildling?" Nieve says, exasperated.

"Because you were caught killing men of the night's watch, and now you're trying to save your skin."

"I'm not the type to beg for mercy." Nieve said more confidently than she felt - she wasn't scared of dying, but she was scared of failing this mission. Of what that might mean for the realm if she couldn't help save them from the Long Night. Ever since Varys had set her the mission, it was becoming something of an obsession to her, like she was meant to do this, like it was destined for her. She knew it sounded ridiculous but she knew as well as Jon did, that whilst the other kingdoms fought ignorantly for the throne, all that would mean nothing if the dead and the night took them all.

"Then who are you?" Jon's voice rings across the hall. There's an intense moment of silence. Nieve knows she's on dangerous ground again. Jon wasn't swept away with her charms anymore. She'd need to give him some answers if he were to spare her

"Ever heard of The Guild of Faceless Men? I was trained as an assassin, and soon I became their best student. Learning secrets comes with the job. Espionage; I know things, more things than you can imagine of what's going on across the Seven Kingdoms and the Narrow Sea. There's no one Westeros that knows more than I know."

"High praise for yourself." Jon's word were mocking but his tone sounds somewhat impressed.

"Why be modest with the truth?" Nieve says with a playful smirk. "But I can help because I know well of your guests in the castle. Lord Stannis... I presume the lady Melisandre is here with him?"

Jon frowned, the girl really does know things. It made him a little nervous.

The silver haired crow pipes up again. "Why is that of your concern?"

Nieve glares at him, she could feel herself losing her patience with this crow. "Because it should be of everyone's concern; she serves the Lord of Light - or the-Lord-of-fucking-lies, should I say. She brings nothing but death and darkness. She is not to be trusted."

Silver crow scoffs, "Funny words from an assassin standing in chains-"

Nieve snaps again, "- and there will be no words from you when I slice your rotten tongue from your fucking mouth!"

"YOU ARE A PRISONER HERE!" Jon's voice bellows over the men beginning to jeer again, "Do not over step this huge privilege of sentencing trial you have!"

The men beside Nieve keeping her bound, tug her arms painfully, she struggles in their grip. Nieve knows she's dangerously close to being taken out into the courtyard and beheaded, but still she rounds on Jon; if there's one thing the Dornish hate - it's chains. Nieve won't have him think her trapped; she wanted Jon to know she had him right where she wanted him. "Set as many chains and men on me as you want. But if you were going to kill me, you'd have done it by now." She assures him with a voice filled with venom.

Jon blinks. The hall is silent for a while.

Jon knew she would be useful to them, but had still didn't trust the girl, "We are the Night's Watch, we do not get involved in the politics of the seven kingdoms."

"What's Stannis still doing here then?" She sighs, tired of this back and forth conversation. "You must know the wars of this realm are crucial to how you protect this wall. You have to stop thinking they're something detached. I know their games: All of them. All the kings, lords, houses - I know their every move. I can use that to help you get the men you need against the coming winter. But if you try to kill me now, then you'll never know the secrets that might just save the realm; the realm that you've vowed to protect."

There is silence in the hall. The men were listening to her now. She could feel them reluctantly admitting to themselves that her help truly could come in handy, but all Nieve cared about was Jon's opinion.

He sits quietly, weighing up her offer. Something about her fascinated him. And not in a healthy way. She was beautiful, intelligent, feisty. His mind wonders back to Arya. _Did she really know her? Or was that just a trick for me to spare her life?_ He decided it was best to continue to question her later, without an audience. He huffed in defeat.

"Take her away." Jon demanded. "Lock her up." He didn't want to have the rest of this conversation in front of his brothers.

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

_What a hell of a morning. _Nieve sighs in relief. _How did I nearly fuck up the mission already?! Well, at least Jon is a man of diplomacy. _Nieve thinks. She'd managed to talk her way out of death - _Tyrion would be proud. _

But now she had to win Jon's trust before she told him of his true heritage and his potential purpose as a the Prince that was promised. He wouldn't believe her otherwise. But she couldn't see them braiding each others hair anytime soon. Nope, she'd have to play it slowly...

_…And uncomfortably and isolated from a cold dungeon jail. _Nieve adds to herself bitterly.

"Shit." She had growled once the crows had left her locked and chained to the stone walls. Varys had trusted her to be diplomatic and in the first ten minutes of arriving at the wall - she'd killed three men already.

She looks around the small cell, _my new home for the duration of my stay, _she thinks defeatedly. It was dank, smelly, cold with nothing but a chamber pot in the corner and rotting straw for a bed in another. But as she was chained to a wall opposite, so their was no way of accessing these features across the room. She knew she easily get out - dislocate her thumbs, pick the locks with a pin tucked in her hair. But she needed to stay trapped, Jon had to be the one to let her out himself - _he had to learn to trust me enough to want to release me. _

Nieve was used to a life without wealth and luxury at the guild, giving up all materialistic and personal items was a requirement at the House of Black and White. But she'd never handle solitary confinement too well; gave her too much time to think. Too much time to dream…

She hears a loud clunk at the end of the hallway. The door to her cell was wooden with all but a small barred window. Nieve presumes it's Jon Snow coming to continue with his questioning. But instead a smaller figure had reached the door. A young girl. She was so short all Nieve could see was just eyes and forehead poking up the other side of the window. The girl says nothing for a while, just peers in at Nieve, unsure as to whether she should introduce herself to a criminal or not. The girl finally cleared her throat.

"Who are you?" She says curiously, "You've never been in this cell before."

Nieve smiles sadly."Just been accommodated today."

The girl's eyebrows raise a little."Why? What did you do?"

Nieve was in no mood to put it delicately. "I killed three crows because they attempted to rape me."

The girl gasps.

"Yep." Is all Nieve

"Forgive me for saying but;" the girl says cautiously, "but don't they usually execute killers here?"

"If that were true no one would guard the wall." Nieve laughed snarkily, "but I'm a useful killer; they need to keep me alive."

She could hear the girl's brain ticking away, she seemed the type to enjoy a good riddle.

"You know secrets, don't you?!" The girl says excitedly. But suddenly they's a tone of concern in her voice. "But won't they... interrogate you?"

_The girl is smart. _Nieve thinks, but all she says is: "Yep."

Nieve sees her eyebrows raise in shock.

"Won't they torture you?"

Nieve laughs again. "They can try."

The girl is silent for a moment. She seemed fascinated by Nieve, she admired her bravery. Nieve was just as curious about this young girl too, she thought it strange a young girl to would be at the wall, wondering the

"What's your name?" Nieve asks.

The girl doesn't hesitate, she smiles and says, "Shireen."

Nieve makes the connection,"…Of House Baratheon?"

She nods.

Nieve never thought Stannis would be dumb enough to bring his daughter to battle, or the wall with rapists and killers.

Nieve grins at the little lady, "Forgive me for saying," she mimics Shireen's words, "but you seem far too intelligent to be Stannis Baratheon's daughter." The girl giggles, "That's what Sir Davos says too."

"Who?" Nieve questions.

"My friend, and my father's hand." She states proudly, "He's better known as the Onion Knight."

Nieve could remember now, Varys had said that Gendry told him that it was the 'Onion Knight' that had helped him escape. Maybe this Sir Davos has other allegiances? She would make a mental note of all those who could help or hinder Jon's chances of protecting the realm from the long night.

Melissandra had claimed Stannis was Azor Ahai - so she was the first name on the hinder list.

"You don't seem very dangerous." Shireen puzzles. "But then I guess sometimes people can be harmless, but they are locked away anyway, by those who are scared of what they don't understand or can't control." Nieve looks impressed by the girl's deduction, "You sound like you're talking from experience…"

Shireen turns her head slowly and Nieve could just about see a scar of greyscale smothered across her head down to her cheek.

Nieve smiles.

"You're a survivor." Nieve says in admiration. "I like survivors."

Shireen smiles back.

Shireen seems about the same age, but was more innocent, yet she reminded Nieve of Arya. Nieve thought for a moment on whether she should tell the girl why she was here. _She's Stannis' daughter - she might have information on the red woman's plans with Azor Ahai._ Nieve decides to confess.

"Shireen, you seem like a very intelligent girl, and I could really do with the help of an intelligent girl."

Sensing Nieve's serious tone, Shireen straighten's up to pay closer attention.

"The realm's in danger." Nieve continues, "Winter is coming and so is the Long Night. I'm trying to help stop it."

Shireen scowls, "The red woman talks of the long night. I don't believe her. I don't believe a word of what she says, she's a cruel witch."

"That she is." Nieve agrees, "But unfortunately she's right about the Long Night coming. It's happened before, and only the prince that was promised could save us."

"And who's that?" Shireen grabs the bars on the window, fists clutching tightly in curiosity.

Nieve mimics her childlike excitement by kneeling closer towards the door like she was leaning closer for a secret. "Who do you think it could be?"

Shireen shrugs ,"My father maybe?"

"Maybe." Nieve pouts, "but that's what the red woman says - and we don't believe what she says, do we?"

Suddenly, Shireen whips her head, staring down the corridor. "I hear footsteps. Mother hates it when I wonder around the castle on my own. I'd better go. I hope we'll meet again soon."

Nieve smiles, "As do I, Lady Shireen."

And with that, the young girl dashed down the corridor and Nieve was alone, again.

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Jon didn't notice the small figure rounding the corner into the dungeons until it bumped into him.

"Are you okay?" Jon ask the small figure. She looks up at him; it was Princess Shireen.

"Apologies, Princess." Jon stammers in surprise.

"That's okay." She brushes herself off. "Please don't tell my mother I was down here."

"I won't, but you really shouldn't be down here." Jon warns her in concern, "We have a new prisoner, Princess." Shireen giggles, "Yes I know, she's nice."

Jon frowns in worry. "Best you head back to your chambers, Princess."

The girl nods happily, and sprints off along the corridor and back up the stairs. Jon stands in the corridor for a moment, dazed.

_She's "nice"?_ Jon had a bad feeling about a lot of things but this one concerned him the most. But he needed more answers, so he strode around the corner and down the corridor towards the prisoners cell. What confused him the most was the vision he saw - why had he seen her? This prisoner. And what scared him even more was why had he seen any vision at all. Was he a green seer? and if so why hadn't he seen anything until now? He'd had vivid dreams at night - he'd just thought them ordinary dreams - but he'd never dreamt during the day like that…

He'd reached the cell door. He peered in on the young woman, she sat on the floor back leaning against the side wall her furs and face still splattered with dried blood. She seemed to be expecting him but she didn't look at him, instead she stared hard at the wall opposite her, evidently trying to manage her temper.

Jon spoke through the cell door window, "What did you say to her? You shouldn't be associating with the Princess Shireen."

Nieve takes a deep breath, innocently quipping, "I was just getting to know the residents."

Jon says angrily. "You will remain in the dungeons; you may have information but that doesn't mean we have to treat you like an honoured guest. You are a prisoner!"

Nieve was glaring at him, with a look that told him she was ready to slit his throat. And for once something told him he should be worried that she would, by evidence of the three crows she'd attacked. Nieve was defiant, even in captivity. Jon's thoughts wondered to Ygritte. _She had hated it too when I called her prisoner. _

Jon sighs, and removes the cell key from his belt, Nieve's face softens as he opens the cell door, and enters. She gives him credit for his courage after he's seen what she can do to three men let alone one.

"So," His expression stern but his tone mocking. "Tell me what you know? If the information is worth any value, I might consider letting you go with your life."

Nieve knew they were empty threats. "But you're Lord commander now, Snow. Surely it shows weakness to let a crow-killer live." Nieve mocked back. She knew he needed her, and so she couldn't resist a little teasing. Jon Snow looked like he hadn't had a good smile in years.

"I don't want to kill you. But keep up with that talk; you're making it much easier for me." He vexes.

_Guess a smile from the lord commander was harder to crack than the wall itself._

"I can assure you, killing me isn't easy." She smirks.  
Jon began to pace slowly around the small cell, "Death threats aren't the only way to get someone to talk." He says Nieve laughs, "Ah torture, that dear old friend. I know you ain't the type Snow. Especially on a woman -"

"- Oh I'm the type." Jon challenges.

"- Nah, you're not, I would know." Nieve sighs, tired of the trifling talk now, "You don't need to pry it out of me anyways. Like I said I'm here to help, you're the one keeping up hostilities Snow."

Her eyes flicker to the hand Jon has subconsciously resting on his sword hilt.

Nieve smiles. "I promise I'll tell you the truth. A little bit of it, everyday, to assure my safety."

_Fair enough,_ Jon thinks reluctantly. "Any information for today?"

Nieve shifts on the floor - her bottom was already feeling stiff and uncomfortable. "What do you wanna know?"

Jon thinks quietly for a moment. He knows he should ask the most important questions first - who she is, what she wants, how she truly knows about secrets of the realm. But his selfish curiosities got the best of him.

"So.. Arya?" he hints guiltily.

Nieve can't help the smile that plays on her lips. _Good man_. She thinks, _we might be able to get along after all. _

"She's in Braavos. She trains with the Faceless men too. She's a natural, much better than me when I started out. She told me to tell you that she's safe and that she misses you a lot."

The news does not reassure Jon however, "Does that mean she'll become… like you?"

"Ouch." Nieve feins hurt. "What's that supposed to me?"

"That's not what I meant - I mean -" his smooth talk all gone. "Will she become a killer like you?" Jon felt bad for the way he put it, he hardly was one to talk; he'd done his fair share of killing too. He could tell the girl was thinking this too, but was decent enough not to raise the hypocrisy.

"Arya was a killer long before she joined the guild. She did what she had to do to survive. I know you're proud to have such a strong little sister, you wouldn't have given her Needle otherwise."

Jon considers this - the girl was right. He shouldn't have worried about Arya so much, she was a fighter like him.

Jon sighed. "I hadn't seen or heard from her in years, I thought she might be... but she is a survivor if ever I saw one."

Jon looks at Nieve now sincerely, "Thank you."

Nieve nods in respect, "That information is an extra, because Arya wanted me to let you know she was okay. So, Lord commander; what else do you want to know?" Nieve offers.

Jon's eyes narrowed. She was a mystery, one minute ready to cut his throat, another showing kindness and respect.

"Who are you?" he says It had been the question Nieve had expected but an answer she wasn't quite willing to give up yet. "Guess."

Jon couldn't hold back the small smirk that came from her words. _The mystery continues… _

He decides to ask another question: "Why you here?"

"To help." Nieve says He scowls,

"You've said that already."

"Then you shouldn't waste questions on answer you already know." Nieve says playfully, innocently fluttering her eyelids.

Jon huffs a sigh, "So is that all the information I get today?"

"Well I would be more inclined to help if you undid these chains…" Nieve says, holding out her hands bound in cuffs.

Jon gave a pause to seem like he was considering it - his hand fiddling with the keys playfully - but then he turns abruptly and strides to the door, "Sam will be down to give you, your supper later." was all he said over his shoulder a smirk clear in his tone.

Nieve rolled her eyes. _Okay maybe I prefer it when he isn't trying to be funny._ Nieve thinks sulkily.

"Snow?" She calls after him. "There's one thing I will tell you however."

Jon turns to face her, waiting expectantly.

"Stay away from the red woman." Her tone was serious, and he thought he could detect a hint of concern too.

In all honesty he'd been trying the avoid the Red Woman already, something about her felt like bad news. But he questions the girl anyway: "Why?"

Nieve raises an eyebrow in impatience, "You know why."

But Jon wasn't going to let her off that easy. "You're the one with the secrets so you tell me."

"We've had the displeasure of meeting before" Nieve says, "at the gilde she came to try recruit killers for Stannis' war. The gilde refused, she wasn't happy." Nieve remembers the angered expression on the red woman's face when she vowed that R'hllor would punish them for refusing him. "She has a unhealthy interest in Stannis' cause - and her coming to the wall suggests she has an unhealthy interest in your cause too."

Nieves mind flashed back to Gendry and what Varys said the Red Woman had tried to do to him. "She has a history of luring men in like flies to a web, and believe me - it never ends well for the flies."

She hoped her warning was coming across clearly, but Jon was still frowning. Nieve sighs, "She may... Y'know... Try to…" she searched for the right word,

"…tempt you. But you must resist her. Her body and words; they're her weapons." Nieve finishes.

Jon did respond, he just looked at Nieve confused and then walks outs, locking the door with a loud clunk that echoes around the damp cell. Nieve slumps against the wall, hoping he had heed her words.

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Strange you should let her live." Stannis

"Your grace?" Jon responds, absentmindedly. His thoughts had been on the girl in the dungeons, she was mystery: a game and one that Jon was enjoying playing more than he would like. Stannis had heard of the new prisoner and had summoned the young lord commander for questioning. However, Stannis' questions were pointless - Jon barely had answers for him. But he couldn't deny "the king" so he answered the best he could. He was indebted to Stannis for fending off the Wildlings, but that still didn't mean he enjoyed their little meetings - the ones where Jon would disclose his plans and Stannis would just sit there, judging.

Stannis continues; "You killed one of your own men, Janos was it? But show mercy to the wilding king and spare a murderer. See how your men could question your allegiance?"

Jon tried his best not to grit his teeth, "Forgive me your grace, but the men question my allegiance with you too. They recognise we're not meant to get involved with the kingdoms' politics, and think you and I are plotting. You don't see me attempting to settle their minds by executing you…"

Sir Davos didn't appreciate Jon's tone, "Watch your tongue-"

"-No matter, Sir Davos." Stannis smiles briefly but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, Jon always found that smile unsettling. "The lord commander here has proven wise in past decisions. I should hope he knows how to handle this ferrel woman."

Jon thought of the warning the girl had given him, about the red woman. He sighs, he had to warn Stannis, even if he really didn't want to.

"The girl seemed interested in your grace."

Stannis rests his arms on the table. "In me? Why?"

"Namely in the lady Melisandre," Jon corrects, "she claims they met once before, but I've yet to uncover more information for your grace. However, I can assure you, she won't be a problem. As soon as I know who she is, I'll let you know."

Stannis nods in reasoning, "Very well."

Jon bows his head and excuses himself.

It was late now, so he considers turning in. He strides towards his chambers, thinking all the way about the vision he'd had. He'd dreamt of running through woods and snowy landscapes - much like ghost would do on a hunt - but only at night. It was dark and snowy in the vision - he couldn't stop imagining that that was what the long night would look like - he knew it would be approaching - something in his stark blood always warned him of winter and the cold. But it was a dreadful sight - almost nothing could be seen through this darkness.

_Nothing but her. _

The girl with the lantern; the girl in the dungeon. She had smiled at him and for a moment he had felt safe - like he wasn't afraid emMaybe she knew of this vision too. emJon thinks. She was there too - maybe he was the only one with this dreams. Jon knew he couldn't tell anyone about this - and definitely couldn't tell her, but he couldn't wait until morning for answers.

_No I definitely won't kill her_, Jon thinks, _she maybe be cruel but she has knowledge that I need. _

Arya had trusted her - Jon couldn't trust her but he could learn to work with her. Hells, he'd soon have to convince his men to work side by side with the Wildlings - if he couldn't put his differences aside with this girl how could he hope to do so with the freefolk? She had him compelled in a way he couldn't comprehend. Fierce, mysterious, beauty - he couldn't resist it. Jon suddenly turned back the way he came and headed to the kitchens - he knew he'd find Sam there - preparing to bring food to the prisoner.

_Perhaps I should help him out, afterall she's a dangerous woman._

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Nieve felt bored out of her mind. She almost wished a for another vision, just so she would have something to entertain her thoughts for a while. Any thought except the one that she might have ruined her chances of saving the realm from the long night, and that she'd given up her own revenge for her father, for the gallows. The visions didn't work like that though however. She'd thought again of the red woman and the vision she'd told of Arya, she might be able to control the visions - maybe it was possible to make her power a weapon to help her. After all Varys had called it a gift. But so far, the so called gift had only been flashes of confusing and untimely images. She thought of Jon snow at the trial earlier - he had gone pale for a moment, jolted in his seat and she thought he looked like he'd had a vision. She'd dismissed it however - best not to bring it up and start drawing attention to my own powers. But the more she considered it, the more sense it made - she'd read about the first men and the power their blood possessed - _this was the same blood that ran through the Starks - it wasn't so ridiculous that Jon might possess these powers too - maybe he had the sight? Maybe he was a warg even? Varys said he had a pet Direwolf, didn't he..?_

She heard a knock knock on the prison cell door. She looked at it questioningly - _well I'm not gonna open it, _she thought blatantly, shaking the chains that had her strapped to the wall. She heard a scuffle at the door but they did not enter so she yelled impatiently:

"Well come in then!"

It was the porky man - one who banged his cup on the table to quiet the rowdy crows. He shuffles in, head bowed awkwardly. He seems intimidated by Nieve, yet he was determined in his

"Hi. I'm Sam. I've er, brought you your supper."

Nieve looks at him gratefully. "Thank you, Sam."

He seems taken aback by her politeness.

"I'm not so rotten all of the time. I hope." Nieve smiled, she held the Northern accent but she was too tired to bother keeping up pretences, and she didn't feel it was necessary with him.

Sam placed the small bowl of cold stew scraps and stale bread and mug of water down on the ground by a couple feet away from her before backing away swiftly to the door again.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Nieve said to him. "I'm not gonna hurt anyone. Not unless they try hurt me first."

"You hurt those three men you attacked." He says defiantly, with much surprise to Nieve - she didn't think he had the bullocks to talk back.

"They deserved it", she said simply.

"They were my brothers!" He's voice raised a little higher.

"And they deserved it!" Nieve snapped back. In Dorne rapists were castrated or excuted, up north things were so different, Nieve couldn't believe anyone would let such injustices pass.

"What did they do to deserve it?" Sam asked a little hesitantly.

Nieve looked at him in surprise... No one had asked her that yet.

"I came to the gate, claiming I needed sanctuary, they let me in, and escorted me to some chambers that could rest in. they took down the lower floors of the castle and barricaded me in the room with them. Two of them held me bound whilst the other unbuckled his belt…"

Sam remained quiet. Nieve realised he obviously hadn't considered there had been much of a motive when he'd seen the massacred bodies in the room.

Nieve continued. "…I'm just grateful I know how to defend myself. Women without my advanced training wouldn't stand a chance three against one. That, Sam, is why your men deserved it."

"Why didn't you come forward with this at your trial?" Sam said sympathetically.

"No one asked." She scoffs."Some justice, eh?"

Sam remains quite, evidently not wanting to push the prisoner too far. Nieve crawls forwards the retrieve the bowl. She looks down at the cold brown sludge, she tips the bowl slightly. A layer of hard skin on the top stayed set in place, and chucks of stringy meat had been hacked at so much she couldn't recognise what kind of meat it was by sight and if the presentation suggested anything about the taste, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to recognise the meat by flavour either.

"I could cook a better meal without a fire and a kitchen, than this shit." She grumbles.

Sam giggles. Don't get too excited, we're trying to feed hundreds every night. The aims on quantity rather than quality." He warns. He was a friendly man, who also seemed lacked a filter when he spoke.

_That could come in handy, _Nieve's thinks.

"You seem like a nice man, Sam." Nieve compliments; small talk wasn't her strength, she tries to think of what Varys would say; "What made you join the watch?"

Sam looks down shuffling his feet awkward, "My father."

She spots the distain in his voice. "Ah, which lord is he?"

Sam raises his eyebrows in shock, "How do you know he was a lord?"

Nieve shrugs, "I'd recognise noble born anywhere."

"Lord Randall of House Tarly." Sam murmured, ashamedly.

Nieve had heard he was a cruel man. And if he'd sent his son of to the wall - that meant he and Sam must have issues. Gathering information on these crows was proving easier than she expected.

"And what do you do here, Sam?"

"I'm just a steward. I'm mostly in the library. I help Maester Aemon with the ravens."

Nieve couldn't help but respect the man after that - she was an avid reader too - she'd read all the legends; about dragons, the gods, the creatures and beings and the history of the wall and beyond. Her sisters had always thought she was silly for spending most of her time reading fantasy books - but it didn't stop Nieve from also being the best fighter, so they soon grew jealous of her intelligence and skill. It didn't help that Oberyn would treat Nieve like a daughter rather than a ward. Sam seemed like someone who'd experienced the same prejudice.

"So you're the scholar?" She flatters him, "You're too modest Sam. Seems your duties are far more important than just a steward."

"Well - I suppose so." He gave a timid smile.

Nieve began poking at the top lay of her sludge with her spoon.

"You and Jon seem close too..?" She turned the conversation as subtly as she could, but it still sounded forced in her mind.

Sam says more defiantly now,"He's my lord commander. My brother. My best friend."

"Yet you're still in the position of steward?" She knew it was a low blow but she needed to test the strength of his and Jon's relationship.

"He's a good commander - he picks the right man for the job. Not the men he trusts the most necessarily." Sam said Nieve nods, "So he trusts you the most?"

"And I him." Sam states.

Nieve understood now. _Jon is almost as cunning as me_, she commends. "So that's why he sent you to bring me dinner. He could have sent any steward down here but no he sent his most trusted advisor. He wants you to get more information out of me, doesn't he? Nice try, Sam. But I was also the best student at manipulation-"

"-I was just trying to get to know you-"

"-you were trying to manipulate me and we both know it. In fact," Nieve looks to the door and yells, "I know you're out there listening right now, Snow."

There's a moment of silence but Nieve knows she's right; and as she'd expected Jon steps into the room.

Nieve exhales in frustration, "Look, we made a deal, Snow. Everyday I'll tell you just one secret to secure my safety. I don't trust you as much as you don't trust me. And that's normal; trust is earned."

Jon glared, not appreciating her patronising tone, "Well if you want to earn mine you could start with your name at least..."

She thought for a moment - he was right. If she needed his trust she'd have to be honest about who she was but she thought of Stannis - what if Jon told him who she was - she knew she'd make a good hostage for Stannis if he ever took kings landing, to try win the Martell's cooperation. Not that it would work, her father was dead - he was the only one in Dorne who thought her life valuable, she was not of Martell blood, Prince Dornan would not care. But she'd rather avoid that situation all together so she decided just a first name would do for now. She considered giving him a false name - the way Arya had when they first met, but she remember what she'd told her; trust wouldn't come under false pretences. She could omit the truth maybe but she'd promised Jon that she wouldn't lie to him.

But first she held her hands out - cuffs and chains still keeping her bound. Jon with hesitation steps towards her, crouching down in front of her neither refusing to break eye contact. His hands were rough but his touch is gentle as he takes her cold hands in his and unlocks the bolts in her cuffs. His touch left her skin burning. His hands were cold though too; so she couldn't explain the goosebumps running up her arm at that moment.

"Nieve." She said a little She said a little breathlessly, once the chains were on the floor.

Jon looked irritated that a first name was all he seemed to but getting, but he honestly hadn't expected much more for her. It was a pretty name, it suited her. He clears his throat and gives a firm nod, his voice steady and gruff;

"Nice to meet you, Nieve."

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

** Thanks guys, please review, favourite and follow. The reviews so far have been really positive so thanks and looking forward to the season finale tonight! And slightly scared - book readers know what I mean… eeek.**

**See you for Chapter 6 - A Game of Leverage**


	7. A Game of Leverage

**Thank you all! Your devotion is astounding. Please keep reading, following/favouriting, reviewing and spreading the good word and I promise I'll keep bring you chapters. And for those who are still feeling heartbroken about the season finale - watch?v=6Ev0lsbL6PM**

**There are some Game of Thrones Telltale Game spoilers in here, so if you haven't played the game yet fair warning, but I hope that doesn't stop you.**

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**lilmarie**

**PertinentTech**

**the real chosen 1**

**The White Wolf of Winterfell**

**juggalo reborn**

**GreyTurnip**

**amelia831 - i know i disappear quite a bit, i'm sorry, i am constantly trying to write when i have a spare moment, but i'm my worst critic so i'm also reluctant to post it until i'm at least 90% happy with it, so thank you for your patience and sticking with it.**

**Alice-Hatter (p.s love the name Alice mini-series was awesome, Andrew lee potts is to die for.)**

**kimson**

**FanWoman21**

**gushguy**

**bookasaurus**

**wildcat717**

**Mayasha-chan**

**Jisselle In Wonderland**

**BoofaBuller**

**cloudyazurephoenix**

**jenn5780**

**lilnightmare17 - i'll do my best to keep them coming sooner - i do have a direction for this story and i'm planning it to go beyond the timeline of season 5 (it will be theory based from that point onwards however, for obvious reasons.) So more will keep coming, don't you worry.**

**Writers Block 420 (your name is my life writing this thing haha)**

**Ryan-Draven57**

**seaglass1014**

Chapters 6 - A Game of Leverage

_Nieve stumbled. Her hands buried into the snow, despite the leather and furs she wore, the cold is still piercing. She panted wearily, on her hands and knees, she just wanted to collapse there and let the cold and the darkness take her. Her eyes were stinging - she wanted to cry but the freeze held the tears at bay. She was alone, lost and weak. The howling wind died down to a low growl. She knew she had to keep moving if she wanted to survive this darkness, but her body had given up on her. She could feel it shutting down. Her breath growing shallower, her lungs freezing up at every breath she managed to draw in._

_"__You can't go on, Nieve." She heard the voice in her head. It was Arya's voice. She felt her hand on her back, rubbing small circles in comfort. But her touch only made Nieve feel colder. "Stop fighting. Close your eyes. Rest now." _

_Nieve could hear a chilling smile in Arya's voice as whispered into her ear. "Valar morgulis, my friend."_

_Nieve shook her head in denial._

_"__No." She managed quietly under her breath. _

**_Arya would never say those words. Arya would never allow me to give up. _**She thought hard about what Arya would truly say; "Not Today", Nieve croaked.

_The growling of the wind was growing louder again. _**_No, not louder. _**_Nieve realised, _**_Closer! _**

_She looked up in a panic, eyes scanning the darkness ahead of her. She could see nothing beyond a line of shadowed trees in the woods, but the growling grew closer and closer. She closed her eyes, wishing the voices and the growling to stop. _

**_It's just your mind playing tricks on you. _**

_She willed herself to stand but as she opened her eyes again, she grew rigid. Standing a few feet from her was a direwolf. A huge beast as white as the snow she was buried in. The wolf growled at her, teeth bared, it's shoulders hunched up, head dipped low and threatening - ready to attack. _

_Nieve was trembling but still she meets the creature in the eye. Then the growling ceased. The wolf raised it's head, his pricked ears drooped, his eyes softened. He cocked his head to the side, suddenly looking rather like a dog than a beast. Nieve stared at the creature. _**_What's it doing? Why the fuck am I still alive?_**

_She looked down at her hands buried in the snow. But the snow wasn't white anymore; red was running slowly from were her wrists were buried. The red spread wider, further and faster. Nieve screamed. Realising in horror that it was blood. She struggled where she was to get up and run, but she was stuck, her hands frozen in the snow. The pool had spread all around her now. _

_"__Help me!" She cried to the wolf in desperation._

_But the blood had reached the wolf too, it's paws danced as it squealed and whimpered helplessly. _

_The wolf then threw back his head and howled._

_The sound was deafening. Nieve felt the chills run up her already freezing spine. She closed her eyes tightly trying to clear these illusions from her mind, like she done with Arya, but when she opened them again, to her dread, she was still surrounded in blood. _

_But the wolf was gone. _

_Instead, there stood her father. Although, it wasn't really him anymore. _

_He was too pale; skin almost transparent white, his hair was silver and his eyes were glowing, misted blue. _

**_No no, not you. _**

_Nieve wanted to collapse now more than ever but her body held still, she couldn't even turn her head away from looking at the monster her father had become._

_The tears finally won._

_"__Father!" She gasped between sobs. "Father, help me please!"_

_Oberyn Martell just looked down at her, with a cold expression she'd never seen on him before. _

_"__You abandoned me." His voice roars. "You abandoned your family." He raises his spear, crystallised in ice, "You are not my daughter."_

_"__No. No. Please. Father. PLEASE!" Nieve screams. _

_Oberyn brings his spear down on her without hesitation, without remorse. _

Nieve feels a her body shaking violently, and voice calling her desperately.

"Nieve…. NIEVE!"

Nieve reacted before her mind realised what she was doing. She had her hands squeezed around Sam's throat, and he was weazing breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, Sam!" She pants in horror, and releases him from her grip.

Sam gasps and backs away as quickly as he could, tripping a little before he crashes into the wall on other side of the cell, coughing and spluttering.

Nieve was shaking, apologising frantically. She remembers she's lost her accent, she attempts to recover her northern character. Luckily, it seems Sam is too busy trying to draw breath to notice.

"I was having a nightmare. I didn't mean to hurt you." Nieve tries to stand, but Sam coughs and waves a hand at her to say it's okay. _Or to stay the hell away. _She couldn't tell by the pained expression on his face.

Nieve sighs in relief a little however, she knew it could have been a lot worse - if she'd had a knife in her hand he'd probably be dead. "You shouldn't have woke me like that!" She yells at him, concerned but her voice came across as only angry.

Sam splutters, throat still soar. "Y-you were sc-screamin' in your … sleep!"

Nieve clears her throat too, a little embarrassed by her reflexes. "What are you even doing here?" She says to him defensively.

Sam takes a moment to fully recover, before he stands upright and brushes himself off, huffing, "I came to give your breakfast."

Nieve frowns. She sees the bowl of grey placed by the open cell door.

Sam continues, clearing away her confusion, "…And to apologise for last night. I didn't want to manipulate you. You didn't deserve it, not after what my brothers did to you -"

"-It's okay." Nieve dismisses, "You were just doing what you had to do." She stretches out her stiff muscles; a result from the restless night sleeping on the hard stone floor.

Sam gives a small nod. "Well I guess we're even now." He smiles a little - pointing to his neck.

Nieve still felt awful about the way she reacted. "Come here and let me examine the damage." She moves to lean on her knees, gesturing him to come closer. She hoped she could win _Sam's_ trust at least.

But Sam shakes his head hesitantly. "No need, I'll be alright."

Nieve's shoulders sink as she sighs, "Please, Sam. It would make me feel like less of a arse, at least."

Sam finally nods and approaches Nieve slowly. He crouches in front of her, and she ran her hands along his neck, pressing gentle for any swelling. He winces a little when she reaches his jawline.

"Some minor bruising, but nothing internally damaged however. Could have been a lot worse." She drops her hands back down to the floor and rests her back against the wall again.

Sam gives a nervous laugh, "Oh I know, I've seen you do worse."

Nieve looks at him, it was meant to be a glare but she didn't have it in her to mean to the boy, he actually seemed like he was truly sorry for her being locked away. _Well, that makes one of us_. She thought bitterly. Jon didn't appear to ease up on her much even after learning she was defending herself from rape. And if the blood running from her hands in her dream was anything to go by, Nieve also wasn't easing up on her actions. Sam had retrieved the bowl, and hands it to Nieve who was too busy daydreaming, she actually flinches a little when he offers it to her.

"Thank you for the breakfast, Sam." She says in her most polite voice.

Sam frowns, "No problem at all." She could tell he sensed her anxiety, still a little shaken from the dream.

Nieve wasn't keen on the idea that Sam had heard her screaming in her dreams. Her dreams were a factor she couldn't control - at day or at night. She didn't know what she was revealing in those moments. _Nothing more personal than ones dreams. _She hints at him to leave her in peace, "If you have do have other duties, by all means you're free to tend to them."

She focuses rather intently on her meal, hoping her lack of acknowledgement for Sam might cause him to fall disinterested and leave. But Sam didn't take the hint; he seems to determined to bring up the one thing she doesn't want to talk about.

"So those nightmares, eh?" He crouches again in the corner, "…Do you have them often?"

Nieve just shrugs.

Sam took that to mean yes. "I can see if Maester Eamon has something to help you sleep a little more peacefully…"

Nieve shakes her head, "I don't want milk of the poppy. Besides you should save all you've got, not waste it on nightmares for prisoners."

She takes another large spoonful of food. Sam didn't seems to be leaving so she thought it best to turn the conversation onto him. "So… is that something you'd be interest in becoming? A Maester, I mean?"

Sam looks flattered that Nieve was taking an interest, she hoped that was a start to make up for the embarrassingly awkward encounter they were having this morning.

"Yes, it was before my dad sent me here." Sam nods enthusiastically, but then he seems to remember that any hopes of him becoming qualified were thwarted when said he said his vows. "Maester Eamon has been teaching me what he can, be he's rather… old… now, unfortunately."

Nieve sits up a little straighter. "Eamon? Like Targaryen?"

Sam looks surprised that she'd made the connection so quickly. Nieve knew their would be some men of noble birth and former high social status but she'd just assumed they'd just be criminals, brutes, thieves and rapists. Never did she expect royalty hidden up at the wall - well, besides Jon. Then it occurred to her, Jon's Targaryen - he didn't know that he and Eamon were related. She hoped she'd at least have the support of Eamon at the wall then. "What do the other brothers think of Snow, y'know, as lord commander?"

Sam pauses for a moment. Nieve can tell he's choosing his words carefully.

"We all swore a vowel to protect the realm, the brothers know their duty is to the lord commander." He says rather stiffly.

Nieve's face fell. "So they hate him." _That will make things difficult. _Nieve thinks.

"No- they don't… hate him" Sam says meekly,"They just- well, they voted him Lord Commander, didn't they?"

"Don't mean they're loyal though." She scoffs, taking another spoonful.

Sam sighs in admittance.

"Why don't they trust him?" Nieve gargles, mouthful of porridge. She didn't care if it was ladylike - she was too hungry for manners. She was even too hungry to complain about the tasteless cack she was shovelling down her throat.

Sam didn't seem to care either though. "He lived with the free folk for a while. He managed to infiltrate their army, and found out their battle plans."

Nieve raises her brows, impressed.

"But…" Sam follows hesitantly, "…he fell in love with a Freefolk girl. Now, the brothers think he's too empathetic to them. Some even suspect he's turned."

Nieve nods solemnly. "Do you think he's turned?"

"I think he's realised something that the Night's watch has failed to realise until now; that everyone's forgotten why crows and wildlings even began fighting in the first place."

Nieve lowers the spoon back in the empty bowl and looks at Sam with concern. "You protect him don't you?" She asks seriously.

Sam looks at her, but his head is bowed. "I try. But he's got Ghost for that - his wolf - does a better job than I ever could. I still worry though."

Nieve wants to tell Sam, _I want to help protect him too._ But she bites her tongue. They would mean empty words to Sam, and she couldn't explain to him that Jon means the survival of this realm, without him telling Jon before he's ready to know. She could only hope that whilst she's stuck in here - Sam and the wolf would be enough to keep him safe.

Sam stands up and hobbles over to retrieve the empty bowl. Nieve thanks him again and he promises dinner will be brought to her later.

"Hey sam," Nieve catches him before he's about the exit the door. "Do you think you could lend me a book - just something to do in the day?"

Sam frowns guiltily. Nieve hadn't forgotten she was a prisoner still, inclined to few privileges, I mean before last night she was chained to the wall - incapable of even pissing in the bloody chamber pot in the corner. But she had to try - anything she could do to wile away the hours alone in her dark, cold cell.

"I'd have to ask Jon," Sam admits, "but if I'm honest, I'd imagine he'd say no. You look like you can turn anything into a weapon."

Nieve snickers disappointedly. "Wasn't quite planning to bore the Lord Commander to death with the history books but I see your point." She says fairly. Nieve had never had a chosen weapon, she had trained with them all - whip, spear, poison, dagger, bow, axe, sword - you name it; Nieve had mastered it. But her training had encouraged her to improvise at times - to use what ever she had at her disposal against a threat. Once she'd subdued a target at the markets in Braavos with an apple: it was the first mission she was sent on by the faceless men and things got a little desperate when the mark managed to pin her to the ground in an alley, so she'd grabbed the closest object she could find - an apple knocked off a market stall - shoved it into the target's mouth and swiftly followed through with a punch. She'd knocked his teeth out, and he damned near choked on the apple, but it gave her enough opportunity to push him off and finish him with a dagger. Hardly subtle, but certainly affective. She had no doubt a book would easily be a weapon in her hands.

She nods to Sam as he parts, "Thank you anyway, Sam."

**X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X**

It was nearly midday that Jon finally came to visit Nieve, truth was he'd been itching to talk to Nieve again, but he didn't want to look to eager - too desperate. Jon walks into the cell. Nieve is strew out, casually lying on her back on the cell floor - staring at the ceiling, an arm tucked behind her head in support. Her eyes barely glance at him as he enter - she certainly knew how to feign disinterest better than Jon did, because he found himself peeved at her lack of acknowledgement.

"Nieve…?" He says boldly.

She turns her head patiently, waiting for him to get on with it.

"…Have you any news of the Capital?" Ravens were always slow to reach The Wall from King's Landing, but Jon hadn't heard of any news for a few months - they had been busy defending the wall and licking their wounds to bother requesting intel about the capital just yet. But Nieve was worrying that she wouldn't have anything new or relevant to tell Jon - she could only inform him of what Varys had told her, otherwise she'd been out of Westeros in Braavos or travelling with no word or knowledge of the Realm's going-ons. She began to realise her plan of leverage wasn't so full proof as she thought.

_Honesty is my best play here._ She thinks.

"You know my information will surely become out dated the longer you keep me in here." She sasses.

Jon tries to hide a smug expression, accepting the little victory over her not being so useful as she thought. But he still needed to hear whatever she knew. "Tell me what you know of the Lannister's rule in King's Landing…"

She feigns a gasp. "Traitor! Don't you mean the Baratheon's rule?" Nieve teases.

Jon huffs and she laughs harder. "Little incest humour…? No…? I'll get a smile from you one day, Snow."

Jon stands unamused; patiently waiting for her to begin.

"Alright. As you wish Lord Commander," She mocks, sitting up cross-legged. "But I'd get comfortable if I were you."

And so she begins. She tells him all she could of the Lannisters' recent goings-on. Of Margery Tyrell's marriage to her third king husband, Tommen. Of how Queen Cersei is promised to Sir Loras Tyrell. Jamie Lannister's return without his fighting hand has weakened his commander over the Goldcloaks. And of how Tyrion Lannister was on trial for the murder of King Joffery, but he managed to escape, but not before he murdered his father, Tywin. She omitted the part about Varys - not wishing to draw attention to her source.

Jon had sat quietly throughout Nieve's stories, but now he couldn't contain his shock any longer. "Tywin Lannister is dead!"

Nieve grins at the words. "Said he shot him with two bolts to the chest."

Jon blinks, "You spoke to him? Tyrion?"

Nieve remember's the imps last words to her, and decides to make good on her promise. "Yes, Tyrion and I met briefly in Braavos. When he heard I was coming to the wall he told me to send you his condolences. According to him: he and you are friends?"

"It's complicated." Is all Jon says._ Even more so after his family helped kill my family. _But these words only confirmed jon's suspicions - Nieve was here for a reason.

"I guess so, him being your brother-in-law too, I mean…" Nieve shrugs.

Jon stares at her blankly.

Nieve's eyebrows drop in disbelief. "You didn't know…"

He continues to stare at her like she'd slapped him in the face. She couldn't believe he didn't know, this was old news, news that happened before the death of his brother Robb.

She garbles the words out faster than she intended too; she felt guilty this was coming from her. "Sansa Stark and Tyrion are married. Have been for over a year now."

Jon remains silent. He tries to suppress the anger inside boiling his chest but he was sure Nieve could read his eyes.

"How did you not know that?" Nieve questions.

_It was probably a good thing_ _I didn't know before,_ He thinks bitterly - he couldn't have bared any more incentive to desert and join the rebellion. _Or take a dagger to every Lannister's throat. _

He had never been especially close with Sansa, she had taken a weary disposition to Jon much like Catelyn had. Jon could only remember her as the naive and spoilt young lady; who Arya would moan to him about when Sansa teased her about her needle work or giggled at for dressing like a boy. But he knew Sansa was still family and would strike down anyone who'd mean her harm. The Starks were a dying breed, he owed it to Ned at least.

_At least it's Tyrion. _Jon considers. Sansa was originally intended for Joffery, at least Tyrion would be more likely to treat her kindly. But then Jon remembers that Tyrion was on the run and thousands of miles away in Braavos. "Where's Sansa now? Is she safe?"

Nieve shakes her head, ashamedly. "I honestly don't know. She fled the scene of Joffery's murder, no one's heard of her where a bouts since, but I have my suspicions on a man called Peter Baelish."

Jon spat out the name. "Little Finger?" He'd heard of that cowardly procurer - the man who sold his father out in exchange for the ruins of Harenhall.

"He was said to show an interest in Sansa," Nieve continues, "Much like he did Catelyn Stark. Presumably, he took her, that they worked together to kill Joffrey? If so she's most likely with him, and he was heading to the Eyrie to marry Lysa Arryn. Only shortly after their wedding Lysa apparently threw herself from her tower. Convenient, eh? Not sure what that man's game is entirely but he has Sansa - the eldest and last known living Stark, he's definitely up to something. He'll challenge the Baratheons, the Boltons and eventually the Lannister's."

Jon watches Nieve's mind run. _She certainly has a talent for gaging tactics._ But it didn't make much sense to him: "But Little Finger's allegiance is to the Lannister's - is it not? He's on their council, if he killed Joffrey and took Sansa, he runs the risk of losing his position in King's Landing - a coward like him with nothing else valuable wouldn't risk double crossing them."

Nieve considers his words for a moment.

"Maybe." She admits, but she remembers the way Varys had talked to him, saying that Baelish had even once admitted to desiring the Iron throne for himself. If Varys didn't trust him, Nieve wouldn't either. "But don't underestimate Little Finger; he's built his way up from nothing - no one who plays the game that well plays nicely."

_Doesn't look like we have the lords of the Vail to support us then._

Jon slumps back against the wall he was standing against. His eye's close and he exhales deeply. He'd heard so much knew information and he wasn't quite sure how to process it.

Nieve pulls her knees into her chest, head resting back on the wall. She stares at Jon opposite her.

"Are you okay?" she asks bluntly, noticing Jon seemed stressed.

Jon opens his eyes, realising he's showing vulnerability - that she shouldn't be seeing him in this state. He straightens up abruptly, rearranging his cloak, "Thank you, Nieve." He said calmly. "I'll be back same time, tomorrow."

And he was out the door before she could respond.

She understood it was a lot to take in, especially when it regarded family. She was surprised he'd handled it all so well. If it were her she'd be on a horse down to King's Landing, with a sharpened sword, by now. And she wanted to despise Jon's lack of passion but instead she found she admired it. His focus was to duty. Much like Ned Stark had been. She'd never met the man but her father had talked of him, he claimed he was a dutiful man - too dutiful… Oberyn had never understood duty over family - family was everything to him. But when the moment came that Eddard to chose his family over his duty, it cost him his head.

_Let's hope Jon doesn't make the same mistake._

Then she remembered the dream she'd had last night; Oberyn's harsh words rang in her head. _You Abandoned your family. _She realised she'd done exactly what Jon had done - she'd given up her vengeance for duty. She'd be a hypocrite to despise him from not rejoining his family in their hour of need._ I mean look at where I am now! Bloody Dorne is on the brink of war and I'm at the bloody wall. _She closes her eyes now too, the guilt weighing ever deeper in her chest.

_I promise, I'll make you proud, father._ She vows._ You'll understand soon._

**X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X**

For the next few days Nieve and Jon would continue with their meeting in a meticulous manner. He'd arrive round midday, ask a question, and she'd roll her eyes and answer as truthfully as she wished. He wouldn't ask anything more on his family. Nieve presumed it was to much of a personal matter for him to discuss with her, yet she was curious; of how much Eddard told him of his parentage, of his journey beyond the wall with the Freefolke, and of the Wildling girl that he fell for. But she understood his reservations - she wouldn't want him to start prying either, so she didn't pester the lord commander. She hoped in time she would come to earn his stories. Maybe when that day came, she'd be willing to confide in him too. However, this left their discussions rather formal, cold and strictly business. Nieve was growing slightly mad in the cell - she spent most of her days staring at the stone wall or at the door, praying for a visitor. And when a visitor did arrive it was mostly Jon, sullen faced, stiff and cold as this name suggested. She knew it was a wall he put up to protect himself, much like she did - but knowing that made their meetings all the more tedious. Jon's game of disinterest had certainly improved, he remained detached, his expressions were unreadable, and soon Nieve had grown to be the one aggravated at his lack of acknowledgement. She craved more human interaction - real emotion and contact with the world outside her icy cell. She craved food, warmth, a comfy bed and above all a wash, as she still had traces of Turnip face's blood on her hands and clothes.

Her sanity would be saved however, when Nieve was treated to a visit from Shireen on the odd occasion. The girl would tell her of latest books she'd read and if Nieve was lucky, Shireen would sneak her candles, flint and a fresh loaf of bread. Shireen said she'd tried to bring her something to read but Sam was always in the library, and the books weren't meant to be taken out. But Nieve was just grateful. She couldn't believe how Shireen got away with it all.

"With stealth like that, you'd make a good assassin." She'd told Shireen, complimenting her stealth skills, when she first had snuck her the bread.

Shireen had only giggled, "My face would be too memorable."

_Not if you're a faceless man. _Nieve thought.

But Nieve would come to regret that comment after Shireen told her she contracted Greyscale by an assassination attempt.

Nieve cursed herself. _How could I be so insensitive?_

She knew her profession wasn't the most noble, but here she was parading her skills and knowledge without showing the slightest consideration for others at the horror of what she does. Guilt was something she dealt with on a day to day basis, it still consumed her - every life she'd taken, she couldn't even count them, she could just about remember their faces, but that always made the guilt worse.

**X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X**

Around noon on the fourth day, Nieve stowed her candles and waited for the Lord Commander to turn up.

She could hear his footsteps passing down the corridor, it had become a familiar sound, - it was so dull in her cell that she'd come to learn his step pattern, she recognised the short and hastened pace of his heavy boots tapping on the stone paving. It always took him seven paces to reach the cell door, before the heavy cell door clunked open.

"Always so punctual, Snow. It's nice to know you can rely on a man." Everyday Nieve begun with a new flirt, she always found his reactions amusing - he would tense up, his grumpy face would intensify, and sometimes he'd even blush. But today Jon was expecting it and was finally ready to serve it back the the prisoner.

"It's nice to know you're always where I want you - locked in this cell."

Nieve grinned. "Don't try make jokes, Snow. You lack the comic timing and intelligence."

Jon grimaces but they press on to the important matters. Nieve tells him of the troubles certain Houses are suffering from the wars between the North and South. She tells him of the house foresters' struggle with the House Bolton and Whitehill control, after Ramsey's murder of the Lord Ethan Forrester - advising him that he'd wise to write to them for recruits - the men are desperate for an escape from their brutal occupants, particularly with Lord Roderick Forrester's hands tied.

Jon sits silently, heeding every word. He couldn't remember when he decided that he could trust what Nieve was saying was the truth, strangely he just did. Despite her being with the faceless men, she didn't seem the type to lie - that's when he realises, he still didn't know anything about her. Their meetings had been so formal. But he'd felt their a sense of understanding between them, but he couldn't place why, they had not shared a mutual conversation about anything other than the realm's dramas, and sure, Nieve would throw the occasional jib of mockery at Jon - and he'd force himself not to smile - he'd still come to value their meetings as a strange sort of means of council or guidance for him. Yet he didn't know a single detail about her other than her first name. It frustrated him. He needed to know who he was dealing with. A first name wasn't enough anymore.

So on the fifth day he decided it was worth using his daily information quota on finding out more about her. Jon he sat down his back and head resting against the wall like hers did.

Nieve shifted a little, sensing she wasn't going to like what was about to happen. _He usually stands._

Jon looks at her quietly for a moment, before asking his question of the day. "Who are you?"

Nieve knew this was coming, "I thought we'd covered that topic already." She says dismissively.

Jon sighs, _why do I even bother._

Nieve feels a strange sense of sympathy. She knew she was making his life difficult. But the mystery of her identity was her protection. "Guess."

Jon narrowed his eyes but plays along, "The men say you look Dornish."

Nieve remains aloof, "Do you think I look Dornish?"

"You don't sound Dornish."  
"I've learnt to adapt my accent to my surroundings…" She says in a thick Dornish slur.

"…It keeps my enemies confused…" she then says in the voice of one from the capital, 'proper' and southern like Sansa, Jon thought.

"…The way they should be." Nieve finishes off in a northern accent, much broader than his own, it was the voice of the freefolk.

_The voice of Ygritte. _Jon thought glumly.

"So you're telling me," Jon says, beginning to understand her methods of manipulation, "because you assume identities - play with accents - you may not be from Dorne, at all?"  
Nieve closes her eyes satisfied, leaning her head back against the wall. "Guess you'll never tell."  
But Jon shook his head, he'd had suspicions for a while that she really was from Dorne. "Oh but I know you are."  
"What makes you think that?" She challenges him.  
He smirks, "The Dornish are brutal and proud people, but they're fair minded. I know you're Dornish because you have no problem in the presence of a bastard. You don't grow up as the Bastard of Winterfell without recognising what rejection means. I sense it even among my enemies, my friends, even in my family. But I don't sense it with you. Seven Hells, I mean you're probably a bastard yourself."

She blinks at him. No one ever saw through her cracks, what little there were, she thought she'd plastered up years ago. She remains silent however, not wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. _My walls will remain plastered thank you._

Jon appears to be thinking hard. His eyebrows rose as he realises he was ready to make his guess.

"In fact, I think I know exactly who you are…"

Nieve tries to keep the worry out of her face but she feels she's failing, looking at the ever growing confidence on Jon's.

"I was taught of the great houses growing up in Winterfell, and I paid close attention to the Houses of Dorne - it seeming such a fair-minded place. I heard of the reputation of the bastard daughters of Oberyn Martell - the Sandsnakes, if I believe?"

Nieve stares at him transfixed by his words. She couldn't believe he'd figured her out.

"I envied them." Jon reminisces with a sad smile, he seems to be talking more to himself than to her. "Bastards who were valued, not shunned. Who could do as they please and no one would undermine them because of blood right. I also heard of a girl. An orphaned baby bastard who was found bundled up on a ship in the port of Sunspear. It was said Oberyn Martell found her and took her in, raised her like his own. She became a great fighter from a young age, probably one of the best in the Kingdom, but no one outside of Dorne would take a woman seriously. And so the girl disappeared to Braavos and that was the last anyone had ever heard of her… Until now." He his eyes come to meet hers intensely. "Now, she shows up at the wall, with that warrior spirit she was so famed for, and a new the desire to help defend the Wall from the coming winter… apparently." he adds skeptically.

Nieve had remained stunned silent throughout Jon's speech; watching the Lord Commander's mind tick away, piecing together her life. It was the most she'd ever heard him speak and he was speaking about her life. His words were too familiar, and familiarity to Nieve always felt dangerous. She didn't know what to say: for once she felt speechless. For once she felt scared.

She swallows hard, trying to remember her words again. She couldn't let her fear show, so she forces a arrogant scoff, "Well, well, you got me. Seems I underestimated you, Jon snow." She had dropped the Northern accent, finally, revealing her true voice; tainted Dornish. "Seems you know… everything there is to know about me." She says sarcastically.

Jon ignores her tone, his expression both stern and pitiful. "Why is it I still don't know who you are then?"

Nieve huffs to herself, she really didn't like the direction this conversation was heading, so she deflected as usual. "Because people are more than just branches on a family tree." She sasses.

Jon nods in agreement, but wasn't buying her vague responses any longer. "But I think it's more because even you aren't sure who you are anymore."

He was heading into dangerous territory, she hated that his words were affecting her. She hated the way he made himself too familiar. Too close to the truths that she didn't want to hear, that she would never entertain.

_Keep your calm, Sand. _She breathed to herself.

But Jon stood up then, beginning to pace lightly around the room. He wasn't done interrogating her mind yet. "I remember that girl from my lessons at Winterfell. That girl I understood, empathised with her even. She was an outsider, and a fighter." he stops pacing. "But I can't understand her now. Not since she disappeared to Braavos."

He takes a step closer towards her, he hears Nieve's breath hitch in her throat.

He frowns, "You've assumed too many identities, played too many roles, backed too many sides-"

"-I become whoever I need to be to do what I need to do." Nieve spits at him.

"And what do you need to do?"

"My duty!" She cries, it was the words she told herself time and time again. That she lied and killed for a cause, for duty. Nieve had risen to a stand now, she didn't even realise she'd done it. Her fist were clenched, her eyes a light with fury. Jon thought she looked taller than when he first saw her standing in the hall, whilst he had sat high on the council table. She took a few steps towards him, "For Oberyn; I served. For the Many faced god; I killed. And now for you; I wish to help protect the realm." She was breathless now, her heart racing, her face inches away from his, squaring him up. Their eyes refusing break contact. She watches as his eyes study hers, searching for the truth.

He so desperately wanted to believe her words, but he couldn't help feel their was more to it; to the reason she had come into his life. He knew the gods had sent her for a purpose - either good or bad. Whatever it was, he wanted to find out before it was too late.

"If you truly want to help, you can help by being Nieve Sand of House Martell." He whispers softly. "Stop lying. Stop running. Stop hiding."

Nieve's expression had softened slightly. Strangely, upon hearing those words she felt a huge release escape her. She wasn't used to being told to be herself. Even Oberyn had her play an act - the champion daughter of a lord. Jon was right, she'd always had to be someone else. To play a role; the noble, the killer, the spy. She'd wasn't even sure who she was anymore, or what she wanted - Justice? Revenge? Peace? War? And there she was; trying to teach Arya to be true to herself. Maybe years with the faceless men had finally broken her - turned her into nobody without her even releasing it. It was something that Nieve had never thought of and knowing it now bothered her. But what bothered her more was that Jon was the first one to see. The man had just met her, yet somehow knew her all too well.

She broke away from their stare, turning her back to him to face the wall. She couldn't bare letting him see her face as she admitted that he was right.

Jon didn't say anything. He let her take in his words, sensing her every process of denial, rage, fear, admittance, before finally and slowly turning to face him again. She looked different though, she looked vulnerable now, more human.

Nieve tousled her long hair over her shoulder, exposing her tanned neck. She was fiercely stunning. Jon rarely saw women, being at the wall but he knew she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. He never thought he'd truly admire another woman's beauty again, after Ygritte.

Ygritte was the love of his life - he would never truly let her go, but here, with Nieve, the pain of that loss that he carried everywhere he went; of all his losses - Ygritte, his father, Robb, Benjen, Grenn, Pyp and many other brothers, even Catelyn too - that pain seemed to soothe when he was with Nieve. He enjoyed her company more than he cared to admit. And it worried him that his desire to get to know her better wasn't just for reasons of trust, but of affection.

Nieve hadn't taken her eyes off his, he thought he saw a glimpse of affection in her expression too, but it was most likely wishful thinking.

"What is it that Nieve Sand do can then?" She says defeatedly.

Jon let's out a sigh in relief, he felt like he'd finally reached her now. "We're trying to gather as many men as possible to fight when the time comes. You are of nobility and royalty - you can talk to you father, convince him of the danger we face from the white walkers."

_Like I hadn't considered that before. _Nieve shook her head with a sad laugh. "That's not possible."

"Why not?" Jon frowns.

"Because my father is dead."

**X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X**

**So they've come to an understanding but there's still reservations which neither of them want but neither of them can let go of. Please tell me what you think. Sorry if it felt like a bridge chapter - didn't want it to seem like a filler, but more like an establishment chapter for Nieve being at the wall. Join me very soon for **_**Chapter 7 - More Than Man's Best Friend. **_**I've already ****begun writing it.**


	8. More than Man's Best Friend

**Here's chapter 7, don't worry I've already begun on chapter 8 so hopefully the next chapter won't be out long.**

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**You guys are awesome and I just hope I can keep pleasing you all. Please keep up the support. Anyway enough with the pre-amble, here it is...**

Chapter 7 - More than Man's Best Friend

"...you can talk to your father, convince him of the danger we face from the white walkers."

_Like I hadn't considered that before. _Nieve shook her head with a sad laugh. "That's not possible."

"Why not?" Jon frowns.

"Because my father is dead. Killed by the Lannisters."

So much about Nieve became clear to Jon in that moment. He could recognise the anger in her, the same anger he had felt when he lost his father. He rode out to avenge his families' loss, to join Rob's army, leaving the wall and his vows behind him - if it were not for Sam, Grenn and Pip - he'd be a dead man too. But what confused him was what she was doing here - it was clear she was a just and vengeful person - she would not have killed the Night's Watchmen for their atrocities if she was not, but yet she was not hunting out Lannisters, but here; at the wall. The only thing that kept Jon at the wall was his vows - without them he'd have abandoned his duty a long time ago. He'd have gone to King's Landing - taken care of Arya, Bran, Rickon and even Sansa if she'd let him, or he'd have joined Robb's rebellion, or he'd have run away with Ygritte, started a new life together. But Nieve was still here; what sense of duty did a Sandsnake have to the wall?

"I'm sorry for your loss." Jon says, bowing his head a little. And he thought he'd glimpsed a slight smile back, in gratitude, but had quickly faded from her lips.

"I would have spoken to my father about your plight if if he were still here."

"There's still prince Doran…" Jon says hopefully.

Nieve sighs and shakes her head, she'd also considered talking to him, but if she was honest she and the gout ridden prince were not all that close. The only time she'd see him were at feasts and celebrations, and even then they would only nod to each other in acknowledgement. She knew it wouldn't do well to ask favours of the man, he was fair minded but still had a Martell temper. She'd need leverage to reason with him before she could make any requests. Seems like Jon was catching onto her way of thinking too.

"…So what if I were to keep you held hostage, and tell Prince Doran that if he doesn't fight with us, I'll-"

"-you'll what?" Nieve scoffs, "Kill me? We both know that's not going to happen."

"But they don't know that." He says darkly.

Nieve laughs, "You do realise how foolish that would be, we don't take hostility lightly. The Dornish aren't too different from the Freefolk, there's a reason our Kingdom stands alone. Come on then, you learnt all about the Houses of Westeros; you must know the Martell words..?"

Jon says the words without a thought, "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.", he felt a little bit more of his hope crumble into dust.

Nieve nods. "Does that sound like a House that could be forced into allegiance, to you?"

Jon began pacing, "I doubt you're forced into anything."

"Tell that to Arya." Nieve mumbles, Jon raises a brow but Nieve ignores it and continues, "besides, you're going to want faithful allies, not men forced into loyalty."

Jon's pacing ceases, he huffs in desperation, "So we can't blackmail them, and you have no influential contacts in Dorne..."

Maybe not in Dorne, but Nieve still had Varys and Tyrion, they maybe be wanted criminals but they were working on becoming influential with the Mother of Dragons…

"What if I could _persuade_ my family to turn there intensions of war away front the Lannisters, and onto the your cause?" She says a suddenly, her eyes were scanning from side to side as she quickly began formulating a plan.

Jon laughs bitterly. "Trust me I've tried, I've appealed to every House across the Seven kingdoms. They refuse to believe that it's their problem."

Nieve stands up and begins to pace as she works out the details in her head, her face in a frown. _The Dornish may be the best fighters and they may be stubborn as bulls, but when Daenerys reaches Dornish shores we wouldn't stand a chance against her ever growing army and ferocious dragons. But what if we could strike a bargain; Daenerys could let the Dornish keep their lands as long as they fought with Jon for the Long Night when the time came. _

Nieve can feel Jon's confused eyes following her as she steps across one side of the cell to the other. But she remains concentrated, looking for any loop hole or angles she might have missed.

She realised this plan relied heavily on the relationship Tyrion and Varys would need to create with the Mother of Dragons._ I'd need to get a letter to the Eunuch, telling him success with Daenerys was imperative, if we're to have any control in gaining the Dornish as an ally. With a bit of persuasion; Dorne would do the right thing, but force their hand and they'd strike back. This must be handled delicately. _Nieve finishes her train of thought. She realises Jon is waiting for this master plan, but she'd have to edit out the certain details; she didn't think telling Jon about Targaryens was the best idea, she'd couldn't draw any attention to his heritage or Varys' plan just yet.

She clears her throat a little, "You're not from Dorne, they won't bow to some Northern Lord Commander thousands of miles away. Many are ignorant or apathetic as to what it is you're doing here. They don't hear of the sacrifices in your battles, they don't believe stories of the dead rising as ice. I mean when was the last time a Dornishman was even recruited to the wall? I'm going to be honest with you, Snow. I have no influence. But I know secrets, I know the strengths and weaknesses of the Houses, and with just the right amount of nepotism and negotiation - I think I could convince them to accept."

Jon looks both relieved and skeptical at the same time. "You would do that?"

"I said I could. Didn't say I would." Nieve said firmly. She would need a few conditions for herself first.

Jon huffs, "What do you want?"

She did say she'd wait until he trusts her to let her out, but her sanity and patience is wearying to thin to care anymore. "I want out of this cell."

Jon knew she was going to say that, "You killed three men of the Night's Watch, we'd execute our own brothers if they did that. I can't let you out. Doesn't exactly inspired confidence."

Nieve glares at him, disgusted. "How can you say that when you know why I had to kill them?"

Jon raises his eyebrows in the 'had' in her sentence. "Wanted." He corrects. "Look I'm not defending what they did to you. The Gods know they deserved their punishment. But the men doubt my leadership enough already. Besides, you're safer in here, less chance of it happening again.'

"I don't need to be locked up for protection," Nieve snaps. "I can take care of myself."

"Exactly," Jon laughs a little, "It's not to protect you, it's to protect them."

Nieve smiles slightly. It was a strange backhanded compliment but she'd accept it.

"Besides," Jon continues in a more serious tone, "You're promising me that you'll _talk _to Prince Doran, you've haven't guaranteed an army yet. Convince him first, then we'll talk about your terms of release."

Nieve pouts, pretending to consider this for a moment, before saying, "No freedom, no letter. Good day, Lord Commander." She lay her head back against the wall and closed her eyes like she was trying to fall asleep. She didn't need to open her eyes to know that Jon was pulling his usual mopey expression.

He clenches his fist tight, voice filled with impatience, "Sand, if I agree to this; both Stannis and The watch won't take it well."

Nieve opens her eyes, "Why do you care?" She shrugs, "From what I hear your men don't like or trust you anyway-"

"-I believe they respect my sense of duty-" Jon says, sounding less convincing as he would have hoped. But Nieve interrupts him.

"-and based off your reluctancy, it sounds like you don't trust them either."

Jon glowers at her. "There are slight conflicts in ideology yes." He says stiffly.

"Slight Conflicts?!" She scoffs. "Your men don't trust you because you're 'the Wildling lover'!"

Jon's body stiffens. He didn't know how much she knew about him, but his temper begun to flare in a way it hadn't done in years at that moment - she couldn't know about Ygritte from her time in Braavos, he was certain of that. Jon couldn't show that he was rattled by her words, "What are you talking about?" he tries to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Your time with the wildlings," Nieve continues, "you met a woman, did you not?-"

"-shut your mouth!-"

"-fell in love with the enemy-"

"-I SAID; SHUT UP!" Jon cries out, he has long claw drawn in less than a second. Nieve is on her feet just as fast. Stance low and ready to dodge his attacks. Jon is panting heavily, but Nieve didn't move a muscle. Neither of them had broken eye contact, both eager to state their defiance, until Jon looks down at his hands gripping the sword, realising he'd lost his temper. She'd struck a nerve he didn't know could affect him like that, and in that moment, he was still grieving, still in mourning; for Ygritte. He'd had so much to preoccupy him in his duties that he'd barely allowed himself a moment to hurt, cry and move on. He didn't know why Nieve mentioning Ygritte affected him more than when anyone else did, but whatever the reason was he knew he'd prefer not knowing.

His breathing eased a little and he let up his sword but he was still fuming. He didn't want to speak to Nieve any more. He didn't want to see her anymore.

_She is poison. _He thought._ Alluring, but toxic._

"On second thoughts…" Jon growls, "I don't make deals with snakes."

Nieve hasn't moved from her defence despite the fact that Jon's blade is back in its sheath - she knew better than to let up her guard.

'Snow.." She begins in a warning tone.

But Jon is done listening. "I don't know why I ever trusted a word you've said. You're not here to help - Keep your deal."  
He yanks the door open and storms out, slamming it shut with a finality that seems to chill Nieve to the bone.

Nieve felt her back hit the stone wall and slid to the ground with a groan of frustration. She smacks her head with her hand at her stupidity. She didn't think she could rattle Jon up like that, he'd always seemed unfazed and untouchable. _You know better Sand!_ _Everyone has their pressure points, and you had to poke at it didn't you!_

She squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her fists tight, trying to calm down her breathing.

Once she regains control of her temper, Nieve opens her eyes, staring at the faded light between the bars in the gap of the door. It was growing darker outside; the days were becoming shorter and the nights were growing colder. Winter was coming - and soon.

_I'm running out of time._

**XXXXX**

"What did she say?" Sam is sat at the edge of his seat, awaiting Jon's response.

"She said she'd talk to House Martell, get them to fight with us. If I set her free."

"And what did you say?" Although, Sam was almost certain he knew the answer.

Jon shifted a little in his chair, "I told her we don't negotiate with Snakes."

"That's what I feared you'd say." Sam sighs in disappointment.

Refusing to feel comfortable, Jon slouches grumpily back in his seat, "She's not to be trusted." He growls.

Sam leans forwards over the table desperate to understand the reason for Jon's disgruntlement. "Half the men in the watch aren't to be trusted. Stannis in our castle isn't to be trusted. We still negotiate with them?!" Sam challenges.

"This is different-"

"-How?!"

Jon honestly didn't know why it felt different, he just knew somehow that trusting Nieve was more important than trusting Stannis or even his men. Like she was always meant to come to the wall, like the Gods had pushed her into his life. But this only made the idea of trusting her even scarier to him. "She's dangerous." Jon finally gives his excuse.

Sam stares at Jon in silence for a moment, unconvinced. "You want to know what I think?"

Jon rolls his eyes. "You're going to tell me anyway no doubt."

Sam nods, "I think you don't want to trust her because you like her. And if you trust her, the more it'll hurt if she betrays you."

Jon had never considered this. Admittedly there were times he'd enjoyed her company, but the like was a strong word with Nieve. Maybe she wasn't a terrible person, maybe they'd even come to be friends, but Jon had to segregate any notions of like for now, liking someone doesn't make them trustworthy.

"Of course I don't want to get hurt, Sam." Jon says, desperation thick in his voice. "But I can't trust her because I can't trust anyone."

"You trust me?" Sam's voice was quieter now, wounded even. "And I trust her."

Jon felt his temper flare again in that moment. _Sam was the only one to see Sand other than the Princess Shireen, and she doesn't know of Ygritte. How can Sam sit there talking of trust!_

Jon stares at his feet, his voice low and disappointed. "Did you tell her about Ygritte?"

Sam's face turns red, now realising the reason for Jon's temper. "It might have … slipped out." He says apologetically.

Jon looks livid. "You had no right!-"

"-I know, I'm sorry."

"You are the only one here I can trust Sam-"

"-and I'd never do anything to jeopardise that." Sam says desperately. "Jon, I really am sorry."

Jon looks at Sam, he'd never had a closer friend than Sam who wasn't a sibling like Robb or Arya. He couldn't bare the thought of losing him too. "I believe you." Jon says with a smile.

Sam sighs in relief. There's silence again, and Sam shuffles the parchments in his hand awkwardly before continuing; "But I still think you should reconsider the terms with Nieve."

It's Jon's turn to sigh now. "I'll think about it."

Sam didn't say anymore on the matter, knowing better than to push the Lord Commander. Instead Sam stands stiffly and announces; "Shall we continue with the recruitment requests?"

Jon nods and Sam begins to hand him more parchments to sign.

"Lord Ashford… Lady Coalfield…. Lord Smallwood."

"Never even heard of these people." Jon grumbles.

"They haven't heard of you either. But we need men and they have some." Sam reasons.

Jon excepts the next parchment, staring at the unfamiliar name. "And how many men does this Lord Mason have to send us?"

"More than Lord Weebly." Sam chuckles. But his chuckling ceases when he sees the final name on the parchment. He subtly tries to pass it to Jon with his thumb over the name but Jon wasn't going to be fooled. Jon's freezes when he sees the name.

"Not him." He says defiantly.

"Then who?" Sam says desperately, "I'm sorry, but we need men and supplies. And Roose Bolton is the Warden of-"

"-He murdered my brother." Jon's voice cracks a little.

Sam speaks calmly, "We swore to be the Watchers on the Wall. We can't watch the Wall with fifty men. And we can't get more men without help from the Warden of the North."

Jon can't believe he's about to grovel to the murderer of his family - to the usurper of his father's House. He takes a deep breath and signs the damned thing, he throws down the quill and scotches his chair back from the table, wanting to get out of arms reach from the letter before he changed his mind. Sam nods in respect and gratitude at Jon's strength to do the right thing, and gathers the letters. Jon stares out of the window, trying to ignore the guilt he felt at betraying his brother's memory. Before Sam could make it out of the door, the Red Woman barges in.

"Apologies, my Lady." Sam says shyly, bowing his head. He turns to Jon who's expression is just as shocked as his. Jon gives him a small nod as to says _it's okay to leave us_, and Sam ducks out of the room.

"Lord Commander." The Red Woman says boldly.

Jon sits up in his chair uncomfortably, "How can I help you?" he says, voice a little hoarse.

The Lady approaches the table, her hands locked together in a respectful manner. "Come with us when we ride south. None of us know the castle as well as you do. Its hidden tunnels, its weaknesses, its people. Winterfell was your home once. Don't you want to chase the rats out of it?"

"Castle Black is my home now." Jon says a little too stiffly, "Night's Watch takes no part in the wars of the Seven Kingdoms." A line he felt he had been saying a lot these days.

"There's only one war. Life against death." The Lady says before she edges closer towards Jon. "Come. Let me show what you're fighting for."

Jon tries to disguise his discomfort, "You're gonna show me some vision in the fire." He says impatiently, "Forgive me, my Lady. But I don't trust in visions."

She's standing over him now, eyes blazing into his but her tone is gentle. "No visions. No magic. Just life." She pulls open her robe, revealing her pale, beautiful bare breasts in the glowing light from the window. Jon stiffens. His eyes wonder down her body, his breaths deeper and his heart thumps in lust. She takes his hand, gently removing his glove and placing the cold tips of his fingers around her breast. Her skin was like fire; warm, soft, and enchanting.

"Do you feel my heart beating?" She says seductively. Jon nods, his eyes in a daze, he couldn't remember his own name if anyone had asked him in that moment.

"This power in you, you resist it, and that's your mistake. Embrace it."

Jon shakes himself from her enchantment, realising what she's trying to do. He briskly retracts his hand from hers. But she takes his face in her hand, and straddles him, draping her hand across his chest. Jon's eyes fall to her lips.

"The Lord of Light made us male and female. Two parts of a greater whole. You're not joining this power. Power to make life, power to make light…"

Jon swallows, trying to remind himself how to speak.

"…and power to cast shadows."

"I don't think Stannis would like that very much."

The Red Woman pulls a mischievous expression, "Then we shouldn't tell him."

Her fingers begin to pull at his leathers, when Jon manages a: "I can't."

"Why?" She whispers.

"I swore a vow." Jon says, but his eyes are on her lips.

The lady gives him a look to say _we both know that vow has been broken before._

"I loved another." Jon confesses.

But the Red Woman argues again, "The dead don't need lovers. Only the living." She tries to grab his crotch but Jon catches her hand first.

"I know." He says with finality. "But I still love her."

The lady stares at him in confusion. Finally, accepting the rejection she stands, ties up her robe and heads to leave the room. But before she exits she turns to him, face humiliated but determined to have the last word. "You know nothing, Jon Snow."

Jon's face drops in shock. _How could she know those words?_ His mind immediately thought of Nieve and how she warned him that this would happen. That the Red Woman would try to seduce him. He was still just as confused as to why, but he knew he'd done the right thing refusing her. It was true he was not yet over Ygritte, and that he knew the consequences of bedding the Red Woman would scared the shit out of him. But a huge part of what stopped him, was guilt; as the Lady Melisandre straddled him, he had felt guilt, because he wasn't so sure he'd have said no, had it been a certain young woman, currently sitting in a cell below the castle.

**XXXXX**

Nieve lay on her back in her cell. Her mind rumbled with ideas and plans as to how to get herself out of Castle Black before Jon came to his senses and executed her.

_You've fucked up again and this time there's no coming back, Sand._ _Time to go, you were never right for this mission, Varys should never have trusted in you to help him with Gendry let alone protect Jon and help save the bloody Kingdom!_

She sits up suddenly, hearing the familiar clunk that Jon's boots would make as he made his way down the corridor.

_It couldn't be… _

She sits still as she heard the steps edge closer, she fears if she made a sound the steps might disappear into nothing but wishful thinking.

_Surely he doesn't want to talk to me again, although if he were hear to kill me, he'd have brought more men to escort me._

The key turns in the lock and Jon enters. He keeps his head down, Nieve assumes it's because he was too disgusted to look at her but there's something more in his expression - almost like embarrassment.

"Can I trust you?" Jon asks rather formally.

Nieve blinks. "Only you can decide that."

Jon looks at her. Usually, when he looks at her he sees a cold, beautiful, and guarded woman. But now he sees humility and sincerity and he feels certain he's doing the right thing.

"I'm surprised you came back." Nieve whispers, eyes still wide in shock.

Jon nods, "Well, I'd be selfish not to consider the deal."

Nieves eyebrows shot up her head. She thought she ruined any chance of him visiting her again, let alone making deals.

"And because you were right." Jon continues admittedly.

"I was?"

"About the Red Woman."

Nieve's face flutes red although she doesn't entirely know why. "What did she do?"

"Exactly what you said she would." Jon looks at the ground embarrassed, "She tried to seduce me."

Nieve feels strangely nervous about asking her next question but she needs to know. "And… did you - let - her?"

Jon looks her in the eye in that moment. There's was a sense of guilt, but he says: "No."

"Good." Nieve sighs.

"At least I know you weren't lying about that."

Nieve straightens up, "I promised I will not lie to you, Snow." She says confidently and she meant it. Jon takes in her words but doesn't respond. He was ready trust her to a degree but he knew she still had motives, and he vowed he'd come to find out what they were, one way or another.

"I'd like to revise the terms of the deal." Jon clears his throat. "You write to Prince Doran, you ask for his help. In exchange I grant you your freedom. But you are to be chaperoned day and night either by me, Sam, and Maester Aemon. Sam says you like books - you'll accompany him and the Maester, you'll assistant them in any matters they require. I'll still make my visits and you'll continue to tell me all you know about the kingdoms."

Nieve frowns, "And who intends to watch me at night?"

Jon had presumed she'd ask this question, "My direwolf, Ghost. If you try to escape, or hurt anyone I don't think I could stop him tearing you apart, so I advise you not to try."

Nieve nods understandingly. She wasn't going to run and she knew better than to argue - this was the best deal she was going to get.

"And I'll allow you to have that wash." Jon adds, "You're beginning to smell worse than a band of Wildlings."

Then Jon does the last thing she expects: he smiles. Nieve smirks. He steps towards the door.

Nieve sucks in a deep breathe and forces herself to say what she should have told him ever since he decided not to execute her. "You're a better man than I give you credit for, Snow."

Jon expression remains blank, but there was something in his eye that gave him away; he appreciated Nieve saying that. Then he ducks out of the room before his emotions could betray him too much.

**XXXXX**

Nieve had hoped she'd be let out straight away after there arrangement, but Jon had told her he'd need to inform his men and have her new accommodations prepared. But Nieve knew it was his way of getting back at her for mentioning his Wildling girl. She knew she kind of deserved it, and she knew Jon would revel in seeing her pout a bit.

Round the time Nieve would usually be brought dinner, Jon stops by again. But he isn't alone. Nieve body goes rigid where she sits,at the sight of the giant wolf beside him.

"This is Ghost." Jon says casually. "He'll been guarding you at night and as I said, I've arranged you to assist Sam and the Maester during the day in the library. You can help by reading up on the Whites, even myths and legends might be of use at this point."

Nieve is barely listening, she could feel her face making a stupid expression as she stares in disbelief at the wolf.

Jon attempts to suppress a smile as he did with everyone who met ghost for the first time. 'I wouldn't quake too much..' Jon warns, only half joking, "…He smells fear.'

"I'm not scared." Nieve says, more convincingly than she felt. Ghost edges closer. Nieve wants to flinch away but she holds still. The creature growls, and her dream comes flooding back. "It's you." She says quietly. _It was the same wolf!_ The wolf she had cried to help her when she was buried in blood. All fear had washed away now.

Ghost cocks his head to the side in confusion - _just like he'd did in my dream._

Nieve was so lost in the wolfs eyes, she didn't even think about her next move, she raises her hand for the creature to sniff. Jon was about to step forward to pre-empt the disaster he knew was going to happen every time someone tried to be too familiar with Ghost. But he blinks in shock as his wolf meets her hand, nuzzling against it, licking her fingers happily. Nieve makes a sound Jon isn't used to hearing; she giggles innocently, eagerly stroking and petting the creature.

"Okay. That's not normal." Jon frowns at the scene before him.

"It took him less time to trust me than you did, Snow." Nieve laughs.

"Well then.." Jon seems a little taken aback. "I'll escort you to the library first - you'll write the letter. And then you'll be given a wash. We'll have your furs washed too, but we've only got men's attire in the meantime if you don't mind."

"Does it look like I mind?" Nieve says sarcastically, gesturing to her own blooded furs and breeches. She wasn't opposed to skirts and dresses but in this chilly climate she needed to feel warm and comfortable to move around.

"Yeah didn't think that was a problem." Jon mutters. "Come, Ghost."

The wolf retreats to his master and Nieve stands to follow Jon out of the cell.

She takes a deep breath, she can't believe how good the air smells and she wasn't even outside yet. The corridor was dark and long and she walks the steps Jon would normal walk to visits her day by day, thanking the Many Faced God for giving her a third chance despite her terrible attempts at diplomacy.

They are silent as they walk. Jon doesn't even bother keeping an eye on Nieve, he knows Ghost could take her if she were to try to escape.

_She didn't know the castle either, she would know the exits to try make a run for anyway._ And he doubted she would run anyway Jon still hadn't forgotten she was here for a reason, _she'd stick round until she got what she wanted_. They took a flight of stairs to the library. Nieve memorising the route as she went; making note of passageways and locked doors that she knew she'd want to explore.

Jon slows as they near the library door, the handle clunks as he pushes it open. The library is dark and dank like everywhere in the castle, but it didn't matter to Nieve, she felt at home with books and knew she could work with this deal. An old blind man rose slowly from his seat. Nieve felt bad that his sense of manners seemed stronger than his abled body.

Luckily Jon thought the same. "No need to stand Maester. This is Nieve Sand, of House Martell. This is Maester Aemon. You'll assist him day to day in the library."

"Come here, my dear. I'm glad that Jon snow here finally came to his senses and let you out."

Nieve laughed, and approached the blind man, taking his out stretched hands in welcome.

"Thanks, Maester." Jon mutters sarcastically under his breath.

"It's good to be out and to finally meet you." Nieve smiles politely, giving his hands a small squeeze in hers.

"Nieve is here to hold her end of the deal." Jon throws Nieve a warning look. She rolls her eyes.

"Of course." The Maester says, lifting the ink and parchment on the table in front of him, and pushing it towards Nieve. Without a word, she takes a seat, quill in hand ready to scribe.

"Will you dictate?" She asks Jon.

Jon shakes his head, "You said you could convince them - so this is down to you. Your words, under your name."

Nieve stares at the blank parchment, thinking hard as to how she'd make this request to her Uncle. She sighs a little, before carefully dipping the quill into the ink; and begins to write.

**XXXXX**

**Yay she's out! But don't you think all trouble between Nieve and Jon is over - oh no. We're just getting started.**

**Thanks for reading, please favourite, follow and review.**

**_Chapter 8_ will out very soon - _Once Bitten Twice Not So Shy._**


	9. Once bitten, twice not so shy

**Hey gang! I love you guys so much thanks for the support, I know I disappear off the face of the earth sometimes but don't worry this story is still going. I struggled with this chapter, hope it doesn't show too much haha. I've decided to change to past tense too rather than present from now on, it's just what I write more naturally in. **

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**Special thanks to reviewers - lilnightmare17, MySoulIsTainted (so glad the tension is coming across, hope this chapter will continue that), and minstorai (Thanks, couldn't wait for Nieve to meet Ghost, so happy you liked it.)**

**Please review more if you can - I really want to know what you think. So without much further adieu...**

Chapter 8 - Once bitten, twice not so shy

The water had begun losing it's heat; but it still felt warmer than the cold air surrounding her exposed skin. Nieve dunked under the surface, pinching her nose as she held her breath, desperate and content to stay in the warmth for as long as possible. She liked the stillness and the silence underwater - the way time slowed down, everything felt more sensitive; intensified. She could feel her hairs tickle her shoulder, she even managed to open her eyes, catching sight of a tiny bubble escaping for her pinched nose. But soon, the shallow condensed pressure pushing on her ears forced her to break surface again. She rose gasping, her moment of serenity choked out of her. She propped herself back up to rest against the bath, catching sight of Ghost stretched out across her bed. He had raised his head concerned at the sudden disappearance into the water, but seeing her back up he settled, laying his head back down on his paws.

"You just make yourself comfortable why don't you?" She said sarcastically to the creature. Ghost just looked at her, his expression bored and pitiful at the same time. "I'm gonna need to fit into that bed too at some point, y'know."

Nieve looked down at her body, she was getting goosebumps. Time to get out, she thought with a disappointed sigh. Dripping as she stepped out, she reached for her towel, drying her hair first so as to not catch the cold. She was totally exposed but she wasn't uncomfortable with being naked, in Dorne human anatomy was appreciated no matter the shape, size or colour, if someone didn't end up naked at a Dornish feast then the event would have been considered a failure. But she suddenly became very self-conscious that the wolf was watching her.

_What if Jon is aware of his warging abilities, what if he's mastered them already and using them to keep an eye on me, maybe that's why he's demanded Ghost to guard me. _

Ghost's expression hadn't changed, he still looked bored and tired, so she chucked it down to paranoia. She swiftly jerked the towel around herself, shuddering only mostly at the cold. She didn't know why the idea bothered her so much; Many men had seen her naked, more than she cared to remember. She didn't just take after her father's temper and fight, but his fiery demand for pleasure in locked chamber rooms. She was not an heir by blood so no exceptions were required of her to be tactically married off to some lord, and so she had taken full advantage of that freedom. As a result she was slightly too familiar with the whorehouses round Sunspeare. But now, at the thought that Snow could be watching, she didn't like the strange burn she felt in her stomach, and although it was warm, it was still unfamiliar.

She shrugged on a tunic, and twisted her damp hair up into a bun, securing it in place with a silver pin - A long silver pin with a snake spiralling around a sharp spear. It had been given to her by her father, a farewell present before she was shipped off to Braavos. Nieve crossed over to the fireplace, her bare feet dancing on the cold stone floor. She threw a few more logs pieces onto the fire, hoping that would fuel it for a couple more hours as she drifted off to sleep. She loved the sound of crackling wood on fire, it was a rare occasion to have a fire going in Dorne, it was always so hot it's unnecessary. She thought about putting on britches to keep her warm before she tucked into bed but she'd only been given black furs and leather clothes which didn't look comfortable, and she'd have to wear them tomorrow anyway, whilst her own furs where being washed. She managed to lift the bed sheet, and shuffle herself into the small bed even with Ghost strewn across it, blissfully unconcerned that he was taking up most of the space. Nieve was about to blow out the candle nearest to her bedside table when she heard a knock.

She huffed, getting out of bed to answer it.

It's late but he was still in full commander attire, snow and frost clinging to his furs and he radiated the freeze even a good metre away. Nieve wanted to shudder just looking at him.

"Snow." She said stiffly.

"Sand." Jon said just as stiff. His eyes flickered just for a second down her body, then back up again.

Nieve crossed her legs, immediately regretting not putting on the britches.

Jon cleared his throat and continued, "I trust you had a good bath?"

"Yes, thank you." Nieve said, her words polite but her expression suspicious, remembering again the paranoia she felt at Ghost watching her.

Jon nodded. If he was watching he wasn't showing any sign of seeing anything he shouldn't have. Nieve stepped to the side a little, holding the door open to him in invitation. Jon looked taken aback but hesitantly he accepts, walking gingerly into her chambers, and his eyes fall onto a sleeping Ghost spread across the bed and he smiled.

"Apologies for Ghost," he said, "I know how stubborn he can be about sleeping on the floor. Unfortunately what little chambers we have with bigger beds have gone to Stannis' men."

Nieve closed the door and stands next to Jon, arms folded, face smug as she watched the Direwolf, breathing light snores. "Well I wasn't going to risk losing an arm trying to get him off the bed, besides, he'll keep me warm." She smiled. "Which is more than I can say for you." Nieve added, turning to look at the frost still bound in Jon's hair and beard. "Do you still take watch duty? Even as Lord Commander?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

Jon nodded, removing his gloves and turning his back to edge towards the fireplace. "We're the Watcher's on the Wall - every man must do his duty, equally and fairly."

Nieve was glad Jon couldn't see the impressed expression on her face. He stared into the flames intently, his body stiff and slightly hunched, like he's been holding the literal weight of the wall on his shoulders.

"And who said you could use my fireplace, Snow?" Nieve jested. She saw his cheeks lift in smile and his shoulders relax a little, but otherwise he ignored her, defiantly continuing to rub his cold hands together and holding them against the warmth of the fire.

Nieve wondered over to the dresser, pouring herself a cup of wine, she'd had one with dinner but it was so long since she'd drank anything but water being in those cells. The warm buzz from the wine was pleasant, and she thought another cup might help her sleep better anyway. She offered a cup to Jon.

He declined; "No thanks. I should be getting back to my chambers, it's been a long day."

_I bet. _Nieve thought, remembering he had to tell the Watch that he'd be releasing a prisoner today. She felt bad for putting him in a position that could compromise the trust of his men, but then she thought of the bath she just had and the great night's sleep in the bed she would be getting tonight, and her guilt dissipated pretty quickly.

"How did they take it?" She asked; she knew he'd understand what she meant.

Jon sighed. His eyes still fixed on the flames. "Not well."

Nieve sat down on the bed, twisting her legs to her side, one arm propping her weight and the other clutching the goblet. "What did they say?" She asked curiously.

Jon turned to face her. His expression stoney. "Let's just say the men won't be welcoming you no matter how many armies you bring for us. Least of all Thorne."

"Thorne?" Nieve frowned.

"Allister Thorne." Jon clarified, "First Ranger. He had a lot to say at your trial."

Nieve thought back, remembering the silver-haired crow who's tongue she'd threatened to cut out due to his endless excuses as to why they should execute her.

"Oh, not that prick! And he's First Ranger?!" She groaned a little too loudly. Ghost growled, not appreciating being woken up.

"I thought it best to keep my enemies close." Jon justified.

Nieve rolled her eyes. "Sounds like you want to keep your enemies _appeased_ more like. Want to know what _I_ do with my enemies?"

Jon turned to her, his face impatient again. "I've think I've got a pretty good guess."

Nieve shrugged, "I could do it for you if you like." She said innocently, eyeing Jon darkly as she takes another sip of wine. "Make it look like an accident-"

"-No!" Jon said, a little panicked.

She laughed at his nervous expression. "Relax, Snow. It was just a joke."

Jon didn't seem to ease despite her words, and Nieve grumbled a little, slightly wishing it hadn't been a joke.

"And Stannis?" She asked finally.

Jon looked even more anxious at these words. "He was at the announcement, but I've yet to have an individual discussion about it with him. I presume he'll be laying out strategies on how to use you in his war."

"I refuse to be a bargaining chip." Nieve growled again.

"He knows you're my prisoner-" Jon began, but shied away from his words at the glare Nieve gave him. "I mean, he know's you're on my side", he corrected, "But he'll try his best to take you, he had Mance Rayder burned because he refused to surrender. He'll try use you to convince Dorne to ally with him."

"The way you did?" Nieve snorted, her voice thick with irony.

Jon scowled, apparently not keen on the comparison.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help _you_. I won't be bowing to any self-proclaimed Kings, and if he wants to kill me or hold me hostage - let him try. " Nieve reassured him, draining the last of her cup.

Jon smirked, _True; she's talked her way out of a death sentence and a prison cell. _Stannis is a ruthless man but Jon would still put his money on Nieve.

Nieve placed the cup on the bedside table, and blew out the candle. She lay down and began tucking herself in the bed sheet. Jon took this as his indication to leave and walked towards the door. But Nieve stopped him.

"Wait." She said softly, "Do you mind blowing out the candles?" She gestured, spotting that she'd forgotten the large candle stick in the corner by the tub.

Jon nodded, and crossed the room to the light, snuffing them out one by one.

"Thanks." Nieve said. The room was dark for all but the fireplace and the pearly moon shining through the window.

"It's fairly late, so I'll have my steward come empty the water from your wash tomorrow morning, if you don't mind?" Jon added, heading back towards the door.

"Snow?" Nieve said softly, yawning now.

"Sand?" He turned to her, his voice almost a whisper.

"Would you take me up the Wall someday?"

Jon blinked, he hadn't expected that question. Up until then Nieve hadn't truly expressed curiosity or desire in being at the Wall. He couldn't blame her though, many people desired to see what it's like to see the world from the clouds, why would she be any different?

"Maybe, someday." He promised.

Nieve smiled sleepily, eyes struggling to stay open.

Jon smiled in return; briefly watching the sleeping Nieve and Ghost huddled up together, before closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

* * *

Nieve woke to a knock at her door the next morning. She sat up, blinking groggily, her curls that had been so beautifully detangled last night were once again a matted mess, and her muscles were still sore and achey. She knew she'd had a restless night, bad dreams had, like most nights, plagued her sleep, but she hoped the softer bed would give her a better nights sleep. Instead the bed felt all wrong, almost too soft, disagreeing with her spine and permitting her mind to loosen into more disturbing and twisting dreams.

She'd recalled the dream vividly: There had been of a stag. It was running from something; sprinting through the forest, Nieve couldn't tell what chased it, but she knew it was a hunt of sorts. But the stag wouldn't let up; pounding his hooves, trying to head as far South as it could go. It was then Nieve realised where it was; a castle. One she'd never visited but she knew right away that it was the home of the Starks: Winterfell. The Stag broke through the bank of the trees and into a large clearing - the ground was thick with snow but it didn't break stride, pounding across the field desperate to make it to the woods South of the clearing. Just as it reached the edge of the trees, it's legs buckled, something had struck the creature. It collapsed quietly to the ground, no whimpers, no struggle to get back up. It just lay there to die, his blood poured out but instead of thick red, it was as blue as sapphires.

She had forced herself awake from that dream in the middle of the night - too distressing for her to comprehend. She had laid awake in bed after that, gently stroking the sleeping dire wolf beside her in attempts to calm herself down. And after a few minutes she closed her eyes and allowed her body to drift off once more.

Now, when she remembered the dream, it felt clearer, and obvious. She smiled, for once it appeared her green sight might hold her an advantage…

Bang, bang, Bang! the knocking grew louder. Nieve groaned, remembering Jon's words the previous night about his steward coming to empty her bath. She wiped her eyes and the corner of her mouth, paranoid she may have drooled a little. She didn't bother getting out of bed, instead yelling for the visitor to enter. Probably not the safest idea to keep her door unlocked but she had Ghost with her and she was too tired to care if there was some crow waiting behind it with a crossbow.

But when the door swung open, Nieve was taken aback at just how unthreatening the visitor was. It was a boy, must be nearing thirteen or so, with short brown messy hair and cheeks still chubby in youth. Those cheeks quickly turned red seeing Nieve still in bed and in nothing but a tunic. _Poor lad had probably never seen a woman in her undergarments before._

"My lady I-I'm here to bring you your breakfast." The boy stammered, eyes fixed on the floor so as to give her her privacy. He wondered over to the dresser and placed down the wooden tray.

"Thank you." Nieve said.

She could see the bowl streaming from across the room and the prospect of a hot meal made her more wake. She jumped out of the bed to retrieve the bowl, taking it in her hands and swiftly sitting herself back onto the bed, digging the spoon into the porridge and shovelling the hot food down her throat. The boy began to protest that the food was still too hot, but Nieve didn't feel it burn, she welcomed it. Hot food and wine seemed to be the only thing that truly kept her warm in this place. She smiled at the tinge of honey, that she was almost certain the other men of the watch would not get and she knew Sam must have put in a word with the cooks. She made a mental note to thank him when she next saw him. The honey was a small gesture, but having gone so long without flavour to any of her meals the last few weeks, the sweetness was almost overwhelming.

The boy awkwardly shuffled over to the tub, collecting the buckets from the corner of the room and placing one under the tap, twisting it so the water drained out and filled the bucket. He twisted it shut again to move the brimming bucket and replacing it with a empty one, letting that one fill up too.

Nieve didn't talk until she finished her porridge, scraping the sides of the bowl with her spoon greedily, trying to scoop up every last oat. Ghost had woken at the smell of food too and had been eyeing her bowl as she gorged. She gave him a little scratch under the chin before placing the bowl on the bedsheet in front of him and his muzzle dived in immediately, licking up the last bit that Nieve couldn't reach. She knew he'd still be hungry after this but she presumed Jon would let him hunt today anyway, whereas Nieve would have to wait until lunch for her next meal, and judging by the growl of her stomach that seemed like it was gonna be a long way off.

Food no longer a distraction Nieve focused her attention on the boy draining the dirty water in the corner.

"What do they call you?" She said loudly. Nieve thought he'd only hear her if she shook him out of his day dream, as the boy seemed to be absorbed in his task, staring off into the water slowly filling the bucket.

His head snapped up, confused she'd be talking to him. "Ollie, milady." He said quietly.

"Hello Ollie," She said as politely as possible, hoping it would put the boy at ease. "I'm Nieve."

Ollie nodded but said nothing more, eyes turning back to the task at hand.

"When did you join the watch?" Nieve asked curious - wondering whether there was an age too young for the Watch to turn a recruit down.

"It'll be about six months by now, I reckon."

"And Jon made you his personal steward?" Nieve said sounding a little sceptical. "Forgive me, I just mean you haven't been here that long, he must have taken a shine towards you."

"He say's he wants me to learn the ropes, groom me, so that one day I might be Lord Commander myself."

Nieve feigned an impressed smile, but something told her there was more to Ollie than that. "Can I ask you something, Ollie? Something personal, about Jon?"

Ollie looked nervous but he didn't respond, eager to hear the question before he refused to answer it.

"Is Jon a good man?" Nieve asked bluntly.

The boy just blinked at her, unsure as to how to answer. Eventually, he responded, his eyes cast down at his feet, his voice so quiet Nieve had to strain her ears. "I don't know, milady."

Nieve narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't make another comment, she just lets the poor boy grab the buckets and leave hurriedly.

* * *

After breakfast Nieve wasn't sure whether she was meant to wait for Jon or Sam to take her to the Library, but she had a good enough memory to make her way there herself. Ghost was still trailing her too, so she presumed she wouldn't be breaching any agreement terms as along as she was supervised. She knew she was getting a good deal for her crimes but she couldn't help but feel chained still. She enjoyed Ghost's company and anything was better than going back to that cold, dark cell, but the freedom to not be able to go outside without permission; to have to debate whether it was okay to leave her chambers - she knew the arrangement would quickly get on her nerves. Martell's weren't bred to be followers; awaiting orders - especially from others who weren't their kind.

Nieve grabbed her belt, tightening it in place as the britches she wore were slightly loose. She tied the black fur shawl to the leather straps on her shoulders, and laced up the black boots, which surprisingly fit perfectly. She smirked - _the men have small feet here … sounds about right_.

She straightened up, looking towards the small grotty mirror in the corner of the room. She caught sight of herself in the black uniform. She felt strange; she'd posed as many things in her life of espionage and killing - but standing in her crow outfit, she could understand why their was a solidarity in uniform; why these men felt a responsibility to the Wall; why they would call themselves brothers.

She blinked, shaking her head away from the thoughts; she was staring into the mirror a little too long. She strode towards the door, but hovered over the handle when she realised Ghost wasn't following.

"C'mon then, you lazy beast." She said impatiently.

Ghost gave her a glare for that one, but jumped off the bed and landed by her heel, waiting for her to open the door. He rushed ahead once they exited the chambers, Ghost leading her to the library instantaneously and she reminded herself never to call him lazy or a beast again. Ghost paused once he'd reached the doors to the library, Nieve knocked and heard Sam call for her to enter.

She cautiously swung the door open, expecting to find Sam and the Maester at the table reading or writing. Instead she was greeted with the sight of a scruffy looking woman, sat at the table with Princess Shireen and finally Sam, who was cradling a baby in his arms.

"Nieve!" Shireen cried happily, rushing towards her and crashing in to her with a big hug. "I knew they'd let you out."

"Thanks, Princess. Your visits are what got me through it." Nieve smiled back, looking down at the innocent girl in her arms. "What are you doing here though?"

"I'm teaching Gilly how to read, we have lessons here everyday. She's improving remarkable." Shireen, walked over to the table, picking up a book and dashed back to Nieve excitedly. "See, we're already reading from one of my favourites."

Nieve looked at the binding and grinned, "_A Dance with Dragons_ is one of my favourites too."

Shireen smiled and took Nieve's arm, pulling her towards the table.

"Morning, Sam." Nieve nodded to Sam, still sat with the child wrapped protectively in his arms. He looked hesitant, his expression weary, much like when he first met her chained to a cell wall.

Nieve frowned but turned her attention to the the woman she presumes is Gilly.

Gilly jumped up, bowing her head awkwardly. "My Lady, I heard about what you did. How you stood up to those crows like that. I wish I could do the same."

Nieve glanced back at Sam, eyes narrowed slightly, but replied Gilly politely, "I'd teach you how to defend yourself, but apparently, they'd have you thrown into a cell so…"

Sam looked away, face red with guilt. Gilly turned to look at Sam too, face pulled in confusion.

But Nieve tried to diffuse the tension nonetheless. "Besides, I'm no lady." Nieve smiled at Gilly, "Please, just call me Nieve."

Gilly smiled, and leaned over to take the baby from Sam's hands. Sam looked like he wanted to protest for a moment but held it in.

_What's his problem?_ Nieve thought with a grumble.

Gilly cradled the child in her arms, "This is baby Sam." She said softly, gently swaying the child, keeping him fatigued and happy.

Nieve wasn't keen on babies, she'd been a bigger sister many times to the younger Sandsnakes but she had been young then too. But something about babies made her uncomfortable - she wasn't maternal, and never had been interested in getting married and having kids herself, her father had been understanding of her beliefs while most of society would frown at them. However, she wasn't sure it was just that which made her uncomfortable around babies - she didn't like that they were too innocent. Everyone had faults - had prejudice - but a child too young to understand the world was completely naive and blissfully ignorant, it reminded her that every life she had taken was once a baby; once an innocent.

Nieve tried her best to smile however, "He's beautiful." She said a little stiffly. "Where's the Maester? I believe it is him I must report to." Nieve added, trying to move away from the subject of babies. She asked the question openly but it was Sam who answered, to her disappointment.

"He's still asleep. The Maester needs more rest these days." He said, his voice still a little short.

Nieve didn't understand where this tension had come from, she and Sam had always gotten along before, usually their was a respect between them, but all she sensed from him now was mistrust.

Gilly seemed to sense it too, turning to Shireen and saying: "Maybe we should finish our lesson later Princess. Sam could do with a nap and we must let Lady- Sorry, I mean - Nieve, begins her duties."

Nieve liked Gilly even more then - she could read a room and knew how and when to subtly excuse herself from an awkward situation.

Shireen nodded and stood up, folding the books and parchments away. She said her goodbyes to Nieve, and Shireen and Gilly exited without another word.

Nieve rounded on Sam before the door was fully closed. "This morning, I told myself to thank you when I next saw you, for putting honey in my oats. Now I don't want to, and do you know why? Because you were behaving like an utter prick just then."

Sam sighed, "I know, I'm sorry. Gilly and Sam mean a lot to me, I have to protect them."

Nieve crossed her arms with a huff, "Well, you certainly tried your best, didn't you! You never mentioned a word about having a family!"

"I got a little defensive about you meeting them, I'm sorry. It's just when you walked in, I realised you'd be meeting the two people that mean the most to me in this world, and all that flashed through my head where the bloody bodies of the brothers you killed. I got scared. I'm sorry."

It was the most frank Nieve had ever heard Sam speak. She felt wounded, she'd hoped she'd justified her actions, if not to herself then at least to Sam and Jon, but she realised in that moment that they'd never truly stop seeing her for who she was: a liar and a killer. "I thought you trusted me, Sam. Or at least figured out that I'm not _that_ cruel." Nieve tried to keep her voice steady.

"I do trust you. I know you're not cruel." Sam said desperately, "I've just spent to long counting threats; Stannis' men, the Wildlings, the Wight Walkers, even my own brothers. Gilly and Sam are not safe anywhere."

Nieve didn't know what came over her but she felt an overwhelming sense of empathy for the man, she sat down and gently placed a hand on one of his rested on the table. Sam smiled shyly at her gesture. She understood now she shouldn't take his mistrust or caution too personally. There's a moment of silence before Nieve quickly removed her hand, clearing her throat and scratching her head uncomfortably. She didn't do empathy often.

"Thank you for the honey in my oats this morning." Nieve mumbled with a smile.

Sam seemed fascinated with his feet all of a sudden. "It was no trouble."

Nieve tried her best to remove the awkwardness, "So you have a son then?"

Sam laughed, "I'm not his real father but the boy needs one."

"Samwell Tarly! Are you breaking your vows." Nieve mused, feigning shock.

"No!" Sam replied a little too quickly.

Nieve honestly wasn't surprised if the men didn't stick to their vows at the Wall. Taking the Black was out dated, a stupid tradition and a vain attempt to keep children away from being snatched by the Others. Little Sam wasn't the first babe at the Wall and he wouldn't be the last.

Seeing as the Maester would be sometime yet in rising, Nieve thought it best to get herself caught up with the outside world. And so Sam began to tell her everything, she'd missed since before her time in Braavos. About How the Wildlings attacked the war from the North and infiltrated from the South. How they were outnumbered one hundred to one. How they lost half the Watch that night, and that they won the battle thanks to Jon's leadership. Nieve sat at the edge of her seat as Sam spoke, it was like reading the fantasy book she'd read growing up. The talk of giants, and huge scythes in the Walls' defences…

"We'd won the battle, but we'd lost many brothers. Many good friends. We were in no state to endure another attack, Jon knew we were doomed, we all did. And whilst both sides licked their wounds, Jon ventured out to parley with Mance Rayder."

Nieve raised a brow in surprise, "You mean; he ventured out to kill Mance Rayder."

"Jon knew that without a leader the Freefolk would go back to squabbling amongst themselves. He also knew he'd never make it back. Fortunately, Stannis' Army arrived - wiping out Mance's army before the wildlings could pick up their blades."

Nieve nodded slowly, fully coming to understand the events, So now of course they were in Stannis' debt. She didn't like the idea one bit, she could sense that Sam and Jon didn't either, but she'd have to work with the situation.

Sam slumped back in his chair, he seemed exhausted telling Nieve the events of the battle, Nieve couldn't blame him, like he was reliving it all in every word he uttered.

"I'll go see if the Maester is finally awake." He said, distractedly, scraping back his chair and making his way to the staircase.

Once the coast was clear Nieve didn't need a moment. She snatched up a piece of parchment, hastily grabbing the ink and quill and scrawled out a brief message.

_Snow maybe deep but the wall still weeps._

_Our young wolf leads; but shrouded in the shadow of Others._

_Arrangements were made; you'll find the detail in the sands._

_But the drunkard must withstand the fire, or it won't be flames that consume us;_

_but ice._

Nieve heard footsteps. She powdered the parchment; blotting the ink, and blew hard - careful to dust the powder off the surface and under the table. She folded the parchment and stuffed it down her vest just as the Maester reaches the bottom of the stairs.

She turned to smile at him innocently, but remembered it no doubt would be wasted on the blind man. But Aemon wasn't smiling back the polite way he had done so the night before. But instead held a skeptical frown. She knew he'd caught her in the act of something shady, but he chose not to say anything about it just yet.

"So Sam tells me you are an enthused reader, Lady Nieve." He said slowly hobbling his way to the table. Nieve quickly jumped up from her seat to help the man. He accepted gratefully.

"Please Maester, I'm no lady. I'm not even a true daughter of Oberyn Martell."

Aemon smiled slightly, "I am very much aware of the heirs and graces of every House across the realm." he said with a sense of mockery to his tone, "I've met many men and woman who claim to be lords and ladies, yet rarely do they act like them."

Nieve chuckled, "Well then I must defy all forms of heirs and graces, Maester."

The maester scoffed, "On the contrary, you are rarity. I've heard of your achievements. You're a great warrior, strong in heart and great mind for politics.. does that not exceed the expectations of a Lady?"

"Sounds like you've only heard half the story." Nieve grumbled, curtly pulling back the maester's chair for him to sit. He seemed exhausted merely from the walk from the stairs to the table, but he continued the conversation despite his lack of breath.

"Well, tell me the rest." He panted, collapsing into the chair, "As you can see my glory days have long since passed, but that only fuels my curiosity in hearing others that are still living theirs…"

Nieve's brow furrowed. She spoke to the floor, "I fear you wouldn't be so understanding if I told you the rest."

She could feel Aemon's pale glazed eyes staring at her. He was an easy man to read, a good man. Too good. Too trusting, he'd made mistakes in youth and he'd grown wiser from them but he'd never truly learn, he was still a fool. A wise fool who never learnt to stop trusting, to stop searching for the best in people. But he had this ability to make people feel like they don't want to disappoint him - an ability beyond the sympathy of his old age and blindness. No, Nieve found herself strangely caring about what the maester thought of her. She knew it would be hard to keep the secret from him.

"Besides…" Nieve desperately tried to change the subject, taking a seat on the bench beside him, "…the story of a Targaryen Prince's lifetime service at the Wall sounds far more fascinating."

Aemon nodded his head slowly. She knew he could tell she was avaiding.

"That is a long story indeed maybe another time my dear." He sighed, "But I understand Samwell has been informing you of our predicament here and now, correct?"

Nieve leans forward, eager to be off the topic of personal background, "I know everything, except what the plan is next?"

Aemon laughed but there was a sadness in his expression. "Jon knows what he must do, he just needs the support to do it."

"What must he do?" Nieve frowned.

"Make peace. With the Wildlings, Stannis, the Boltons everyone. There's no war but the War for the Dawn."

Nieve nodded, "I wish it was as simple as it sounds."

Aemon coughs, the sound deep and painful. Nieve jumped up from her seat to collect the jug of water at the end of the table, filling a cup before handing it to the sick man.

He accepts with thanks, drinking deeply, until he can finally stammer out his sentence; "Their has never been a time in Westeros where their has been complete peace. and as much as we need there too be now, there will never be. But allegiances like yours with the Martells could help make a difference."

Nieve tries to hum reassuringly at this statement but she could tell Aemon sensed the doubt in her tone.

He reached a hand out to gently hold hers, "I believe you are here to help my dear, but I sense we're not getting the whole truth…"

It was Nieve's turn to choke now, "I - I, um -"

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Jon strode in, announcing frustratedly, 'King Stannis wishes to speak to Lady Nieve." Two guards stood at the door besides he, armoured in the Baratheon sigil.

Nieve hurriedly sprung up from the bench and exited with a glance at Jon, never in her life did she think she'd be relived and grateful to see him.

They walked silently towards Stannis' chambers. The guards boots clunking behind them. Jon seemed tense beside her, she presumed it wasn't so much the Baratheon guards, but because of the encounter they were about to face with Stannis. It made Nieve wonder maybe she should be nervous too. But she wasn't. She had been expecting this meeting with Stannis for a long time - and thanks to her dream last night, knew exactly how to play it. She was doing something she'd never done before - trusting in her power. She hoped this might be the start in learning to control her greensight. That dream could be a premonition, or it could just have been a dream; and she was interpreting it to what she wanted it to mean. But it was all she had to go on. What did make her nervous was the thought of the Red Woman - _she'd most likely be there, and what if she undermines my plans, is it worth making an enemy out of her? She could be useful… Or she could try to manipulate me, trap me, like she'd tried to with Jon…_

They reached the door to Stannis' quarters. Nieve took a deep breath as Jon rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Enter."

Stannis sat behind his desk, elbows strewn casually across his arm rests. A man stood besides him holding parchments - Nieve presumed him to be the Onion Knight, she'd seen him at her trial but never placed a name to the face. Shireen had good things to say about him, but any man compared to Stannis Baratheon would seem good. Nieve scanned around the room for the Lady Melisandre, but she wasn't there.

Jon approached the desk, addressing Stannis. "Your Grace, this is Lady Nieve of House Martell."

Nieve stepped towards Stannis but didn't say a word - she let him eye her, she was doing the same, making her readings and observations of the man as quickly as she could. He was stern, logical, unforgiving, and unaffectionate - a man strict to sticking with rules but ruthless in doing whatever to achieve his ambitions. It didn't surprise Nieve that he couldn't be trusted, she'd heard the stories about his involvement in Renly Baratheon's death, and the man she saw now seemed capable of murdering his own brother with blood magic. But that didn't matter, Stannis wouldn't be a problem much longer…

Stannis swiftly turned back to Jon without a comment in welcoming Nieve, "Do you let all your prisoners walk about the castle, unchained?"

Jon raised his chin slightly in defiance, "Lady Nieve is under constant guard - but her service is too valuable to keep locked away."

"Very well she is you're prisoner - you may do what you want with her." Stannis mumbles offhandedly, like she were cattle being sold to a farmer.

"Well, then can I ask why she's been summoned to you?" Jon's voice was short, disgusted by Stannis' lack of respect too. Nieve held in her smile, surprised to hear Jon be so defiant.

But Sir Davvos didn't appreciate his tone. "You'll watch you're mouth, this is Stannis, the One True King."

"Then let it come from my mouth…" Nieve said in a polite but charming tone, she knew flirting wouldn't get her far with Stannis but it would at least demand his attention. "Why have you requested to see me?"

Stannis nodded slowly - his eyes blazing on Nieve, realising this was a woman he wouldn't be able to walk over. "You made a deal with the Lord Commander here that House Martell will fight to protect the wall. I want to know how it is you'll manage to convince your House to agree to this? Considering Dorne refuses to partake in any wars."

Nieve tried to hide her smirk, she'd prepared what to say for this. She took a confident step forwards. "If I can be frank, your Grace, I was expecting this meeting, you are a large factor in how I may convince my people to fight. I know your campaign is a great one - with many victories

destined to come under a such strong leader -"

"-Flattery does not impress me." Stannis interrupted, his voice dull and impatiently.

"It is not flattery, your Grace, it is fact." Nieve responded cooly, "But this isn't why you summoned me to meet with you. You requested me here to have me agree for House Martell's help you to take the South. The Martells may not be happy with the Baratheons on the throne, but believe me they are far less happy with the Lannisters. And that is precisely why they will help you - if you promise too leave to Dornish Lands untouched - leave our bi-laws and traditions untouched. Then the Martells will fight for your cause when the time comes, we want nothing more than to see House Lannister crumble to dust."

"What about our cause then?!" Jon turned to Nieve, grabbing her arm furiously.

Nieve ignored him, keeping her composure. "That's where my condition comes in, your Grace: You must claim to back the Lord Commander's cause too, the fight in the War for the Dawn is compulsory in our agreement for peace. I'll will inform my House that you will not take Dornish lands as long as they help protect the wall."

Stannis looked at her in consideration. There's a tense silence as he and Nieve stared each other down, waiting for his response. Nieve could feel the anger radiating off Jon behind her,_ I'll deal with him afterwards,_ she thought.

Stannis leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on the table. "You have a good mind for politics, Lady Sand." He said, but his tone was rather unimpressed. "I could agree to your terms or I could save myself the hassle and just take you hostage, then use you to bargain Dorne to comply."

Nieve took another step closer, she'd almost reached the desk, "But then I'd tell you exactly what I told commander Snow here, and that is you'd have another war on your hands. One that could have been avoided if you'd listened to the woman helping you achieve peace and gain allies. I'm offering you more men, It will only disadvantage you to take me hostage."

Jon looked dumbfounded. He knew Nieve was merely doing what she'd done with him - talking herself out of a death sentence, but she'd struck the same deal with Stannis as she had with him. It bugged him - _she thinks us all fools; she'd never side with Stannis, would she?_

Stannis also didn't seem convinced, "I heard a rumour that since Prince Oberyn died you have no allies in Dorne - that Prince Doran never quite welcomed you into the family."

Nieve's expression didn't waver, "And is that rumour enough to go on?" She placed her palms on the desk, leaning over Stannis, eyes burning into his. "Welcomed or not I'm still considered Prince Doran's Niece and he my Uncle. I told you already they hate the Lannister more than the Baratheons, but they'd defend me in heartbeat over you. And with my support, I can make you allies with Dorne. Just as long as you agree to my conditions."

Stannis glared at her, scanning for any crack in her confidence, but she was as solid as Ironwood. He glanced to Jon, shifting in sit. "I see why she's out of those chains now Lord Commander." His eyes wondered to Sir Davvos to his right, who was still trying to get a read on Nieve too. But she knew Stannis had made up his mind.

"Alright," Stannis said defeatedly, "I expect a letter drawn up above midday."

"Snow had me send a letter last night - the conditions have changed now however." Nieve informed him, straightening up from the desk.

Stannis nodded, Ill have the letter intercepted before it reaches Dorne. Sir Davvos here will see to it that this revised letter will comply with our agreement before it is sent."

"As you wish, your Grace." Said Davvos, bowing his head.

"Well, now that's taken care of... Gentlemen." Nieve bowed her head to each of them in mockery. But before they could say another word, she strolled out the room, playfully patting the shoulder of the guard stood outside the door as she went.

"I think that went rather well." She called over her shoulder as she strutted down the corridor away from Stannis' quarters.

Jon growled, hurrying after Nieve, muttering under his breath. He finally caught up with her in the corridor, and grabbed her ruffly, pinning her against the side wall:

"What are you playing at?"

"What do you mean?" Her tone blasé, "You read the letter last night… you saw I'd need more motive than a 'family request' for the Martells to join your cause, and I knew the Baratheons would apply a little bit of pressure to get them to agree."

"So all that nonsense about you charming your family to get them to agree…"

"…You heard Stannis, Dorne have sat idle for many years in concerns with war. Even when Martells were threaten, raped, and killed - they still did not wager a war. It's going to take more than an adopted girl who's only true bond with the Martell House was with her deceased father, to convince them to help."

Jon's expression softened a little. She, like him with the Starks, maybe close to her family but they'd never start a war over her._ Dorne may accept bastards but I guess when it comes to their family, blood is still more important than bond._

Nieve rolled her eyes, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?", Jon frowned.

"Like that!" She mimicked his stupid mopey face, "With pity in your eyes, I don't want you feeling sorry for me."

Jon had to resist laughing at her impression of him, "I'm not feeling sorry for you, I'm furious at you; I don't like you making double deals with Stannis, especially ones you don't discuss with me first." He huffed.

"Don't worry, I'm not." Nieve sighed, "He isn't going to win this war anyway."

Jon frowned, "What do you mean?"

"He'll never take Winterfell." Nieve said hesitantly, fiddling with the leather straps on her cuffs.

Jon buried his forehead into his palm, eyes closed, quickly losing his impatience. "How would you know that?"

"I've seen it." Nieve exhaled, her voice timid, almost ashamed.

Jon looked at her now, noticing the nervous tone in her voice. "What does that mean?"

Nieve stared back at him, her lip trembled like she's trying to say something. Abruptly, she tuggged Jon's arm, dragging him into the nearest empty and unlocked room she could find. Jon's expression confused, she turned to face him, her eyes still hesitant. She sucked in a large breath. She'd never uttered these words to anyone before. She couldn't believed she'd have to say them to Jon, but it was the quickest way to earn his trust and steer him away from questioning her real plans. She braced herself and whispered the words:

"I have the sight."

* * *

**eek the sight has been revealed, can she keep the rest of her secrets under wraps?**

**Thanks, I hope you like and I'll see you for Chapter 9 (I don't have a working title just yet but it'll be out as soon as I can.)**


	10. The Guiding Light

**In honour of the season 6 trailer dropping ! here's the next chapter. **

**Thank you all for the support on this, it's been overwhelming - never in a million years did I expect the amount of follows and favourites this fic is getting, it was just something I wanted to do for fun so I do write at my own pace with it, so I'm sorry chapters are regularly updated, but I've been writing ahead so I'll hopefully a couple more chapters out before season 6 airs.**

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**Chapter 9 - The Guiding Light**

"You've got what now?" Jon creased his eyebrows in disbelief.

"The sight." Nieve stammered again.

She turned away from him, she couldn't bare to look at him, terrified of the seeing the disgust in his eyes -_ I must truly be a monster to him, _She thought morbidly,_ A liar, killer and now a sorceress_.

She took another deep breath preparing her explanation, "I can see things. Things that have happened, things that are happening, things that are …going too."

Jon did the last thing she expected him to do:

He laughed. The sound was bitter and cold to her ears. She turned back to him, face riddled with confusion.

"This isn't a joke! I had a vision my father was dying, and he did! Last night I dreamt that Stannis would fail to take Winterfell-"

"-Sand-" Jon tried to interrupt her, a seriousness to his tone now, but Nieve wouldn't allow it.

"-No." She continued to babble frantically, "I know it sounds crazy but I know you believe me. Think about it - what would I gain to risk making a deal with Stannis unless I was certain of the outcome?"

Jon didn't know what to say, he'd trusted a lot of what she'd said to be the truth in the past, but this was the most ridiculous excuse she'd come up with yet. "Prove it then? Show me a vision."

Nieve blinked at him. "It doesn't work like that! I can't control when- it just… happens. But I promise you, it's the truth."

Jon scoffed incredulously, "Oh, the truth is it?! One moment you're a faceless woman, the next Dornish royalty and now a bloody Greenseer."

His words stung her harder than she'd ever expected so her voice was short as she blurted out her response. "I've never told anyone about this! And I chose you - mostly because I had to tell you - but also because I thought you'd be the least likely to judge! _You, _of all people-"

she cut herself off, but it was too late, the damage was done.

"What do you mean "_You_ of all people"?" Jon asked eyes narrowed on her.

_Shit, why can't I ever keep my fucking mouth shut. _Nieve kicked herself.

"What do you mean?!" Jon repeated more sternly, drawing closer towards her almost in attempts to stop her should she try to make her escape from the matter.

"Actually…" Nieve squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see Jon's reaction when she gave him another rude awakening. "…I think you know." Her fingers fiddling with one another, her shoulders raised in innocent suggestion. It was a thought she'd considered for a while about Jon, and she hoped it was true. Selfishly, it gave her a small comfort when confessing her own freakish abilities knowing he had them too.

"Know what?" Jon asked firmly. He could feel his expression slipping from skeptical to anxious. He knew what she was going to say but if she were going to try bring him down with her, he'd damn well make her say it.

Nieve sighed in defeat, "That I'm not the only one with these abilities. As far as I suspect you can at least skin-change, Snow."

Jon continued to stare at her, his expression blank. "You're mad-" He started, shaking his head in denial.

"-You're still a Stark, you have the blood of the First Men-" Nieve began to protest, explaining her reasoning as he began his aggressive pacing again, muttering under his breath,

"-you've got to be kidding." He growled at her - she had the nerve to deflect her lies by turning them on him!

"Your ancestors were believed to have abilities of sight and warging-" She argued.

"-I'm not a skin-changer!" Jon interrupted desperately, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for an explanation out of this. "I met a warg - beyond the wall. I watched him skin-change - I've never been able to do the things he could do…" Jon's argument trailed off; realising that wasn't entirely the truth. He thought back a few weeks ago to when he first met Nieve, when she had been brought to him shackled to answer for her crimes. He'd had a moment when he looked into her eyes, a moment where he saw her but not in a way he'd seen her before, like a dream. She was a light in the dark night, holding a lantern and guiding his way as he trudged through the snow. But it wasn't him, not really. He'd dismissed the notion as delirious dream due to exhaustion, but he wasn't so sure now. Maybe he did have abilities, maybe he could see things too.

"You believe me, don't you?" Nieve said, her eyes scanning his face frantically. "It's happened to you too hasn't it? Moments were you'll see things that are unexplainable, even if only for a flash. You'll ignore them, but deep down you know they're not just daydreams, they're real. It's happened to you too hasn't it?"

Nieve ceased her rambling as Jon was beginning to look very pale. She knew it was a lot to take in. Nieve's voice was the most tender Jon had ever heard it. She was trying to be sensitive about the situation, but it didn't make him feel any better, her tone just confirmed it all. All the moments of doubt that he was just an ordinary bastard. All the dreams and hunches that told him something wasn't what it seemed or something bad was about to happen. They we're like the normal moments. And here was Nieve clear as day, confirming these notions as something more; something magical; something worse.

Nieve glanced around the room looking for a place to sit. Strangely, confessing her secret had exhausted her. Her legs couldn't hold her any longer so she perched on the edge of a table, but Jon hadn't moved. He just stared at her with a vacant expression.

"How is that possible?" He said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know." Nieve shrugged, "Trust me, I've been dealing with these powers since before I can even remember, and none of it still makes sense to me."

Jon blinked, he tried to steady his heavy breath. "Are you sure?"

Nieve raised an eyebrow sardonically, "Am I _sure_ about my powers? Unfortunately yes! They've been nothing but a fucking pain-"

"-No." Jon said impatiently, "I meant …are you sure about mine?"

Nieve's face lapsed into something more empathetic, understanding the turmoil Jon must be going through. She shrugged sympathetically. "Guess we'll have to find out."

She stood up and abruptly stalked out of the room.

Jon stood numb where he was, before he finally gave in and followed after her in morbid curiosity.

"Where are you taking me?" He huffed, quickening his pace to catch up with her.

Nieve didn't break stride, "To Ghost - you're going to try warg into him."

Jon choked out his words in disbelief, "What? You want to do this now?"

"Yes, now." Nieve frowned, "Don't you want answers?!"

"Yes but we don't even know for certain I can skinchange." Jon stammered.

"That's what we're going to find out. I won't have giving me that judgey smug look, especially when you might just be as fucked up me." Nieve mumbled angrily. Her feet paced harshly along the corridor towards her chambers - last she remembered the creature had been dozing in her room.

They reached her door, Nieve barged in and as she suspected Ghost was on the bed. He raised his head at their entrance and the moment he noticed Jon he jumped down from the bed and trotted to his master eagerly. Jon gave him an absentminded scratch behind the ears, his attention still with Nieve and whatever it was she was expecting him to do. She closed the door behind them, and rounded on him.

"I once read warging was the easiest form a skin changer could master" She began, "let's see you give it a go…"

Jon spoke through gritted teeth, "This is ridiculous - I don't know how to do this."

"You've done it once before; you can do it again."

"Who say's I've done it before?" Jon lied defensively, "And if so, doesn't mean I know how to do on command!"

Nieve decided to reason with him, realising her tough love attitude seemed to be getting nowhere. "Just try it, Snow, _please_. Just clear your mind and think about what it's like to in another body; to be Ghost."

Jon looked at her in defeat. She was right, as stupid and doubtful as he felt he really did need answers. Since the day he'd had that strange moment at her trial, he'd been wondering what he'd seen, whether it meant he could see visions or yes, even skin-change, because it certainly wasn't his eyes he was seeing through in that moment. He sighed and took a few steps backwards, eyes fixated on Ghost. He tried to think of nothing but the Direwolf - but after a long while of contemplation, nothing seemed to be happening. He felt nothing but foolish…

"Do you feel anything?" Nieve asked, anxiously.

"Nothing." Jon said, dully.

Nieve sighed. She wondered over to the dresser and took a seat in the chair beside it. "Try again."

**XXXXXX**

It was approaching dusk and Ghost had gotten so bored he'd laid down and dozed off, as Jon stared down his dire wolf, his face scrunched, jaw clenched as he tried to concentrate on the thought of Warging.

"Argh!" Jon cried out in frustration.

"Try again." Nieve had said the words countless times, she knew it was pissing him off.

Jon turned on her in anger, "This isn't working, I don't even know what I'm doing!"

Nieve tried to keep her patience, she knew it would take time. "Just concentrate on him, clear your mind of everything else."

Jon rolled his eyes. "How am I meant to clear my mind - I feel like I'm surrounded by a new threat everyday."

"Then surround yourself with allies!" Nieve snapped, "Better yet become one with your allies. You have a special connection with Ghost and you have the power to use it like nobody else can! So use it!"

Jon sighed and stared back at his sleeping ally, his mind raced, his thoughts desperate and erratic - he didn't feel anything, he couldn't feel this connection Nieve was talking about. Once again he held the concentration as long as he could, but soon gave up in his frustration.

"I'm obviously not a warg!" He growled, ready to storm out the room.

"Snow," Nieve pleaded. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. "I know you can do this."

Jon looked at her hand on his arm, it was the first time she'd touched him, his body didn't relax however, her touch only made him more tense. "I can't-" Jon began but Nieve cut him off.

"Close your eyes." She said softly.

Jon blinked at her confused, "What?"

"Just close them." She whispered again.

He did slowly. Unsure as to what Nieve was playing at.

"Tell me about Ghost." She soothed, "What was it like when you found him? How did it make you feel?"

Jon sighed at how pointless this exercise was but he indulged her anyway; "He was tiny pup, different from the others, 'the runt of the litter'. He nearly got left behind. But I heard him, hidden under a tree separate from the rest of his family - squealing in desperation; I couldn't leave him behind. He was lone, forgotten, rejected. Like me…"

Jon opened his eyes abruptly, but they weren't his eyes, they were glazed and misted white all over. Nieve couldn't help recoil back from him in shock, but her shock soon spread into a smile. She turned to look at Ghost; she didn't know what she'd expect to see him doing, just any indication that he'd managed to warg - maybe he'd make the wolf chase his tail in circles, or howl or lick his own fur; but there was nothing, the wolf still lay their sleeping as peacefully as ever. Nieve began to wonder if the Jon had managed to warg at all! Or whether he was just experiencing some sort of fit. It began to scare her. She thought about waking Ghost but she didn't know how volatile the transformation was - the last thing she wanted to do was do something that could harm both Jon and Ghost. So she sucked in a breath and continued waiting anxiously for a sign from Jon to say he was okay.

Jon raced through the snow, paws bouncing effortlessly but he still wasn't moving fast enough. He knew night was settling in; chasing at his heels, but he also knew running was pointless, he had no where to go. He burst into a large clearing but the darkness had caught up with him, he didn't want to be in such open ground when the freeze set in so he pushed on ahead, seeing a haven of crowded trees before him. as he drew closer he slowed, he'd seen this before hadn't he? The trees looked familiar, but before he could think further as to why and glint of something caught his eye head, he came to a halt. staring at the light in curiosity, it came from the trees. It was growing brighter in the darkness. without a thought he started heading straight towards it - the shine too inviting to resist. He'd nearly reached the end of the clearing when it hit him. The light was a lantern, a warm candle glowing. It was her again! It was Nieve; holding the flame and beckoning him closer.

Jon gasped. Nieve who had been sat at the edge of her bed, dashed towards Jon, holding him in support as he began to collapse, his body trembled violently, his breathing a stifled pant.

"What happened?" Nieve said a little breathless herself.

She helped Jon over to the bed. His legs a little shaky.

He took a seat, face still pale, breath still feint. "It worked." He whispered, "I warged into him whilst he was asleep, I saw his dream."

Nieve couldn't help a smile from spreading across her face. "What did you see?"

Jon shook his head, still in shock. "It's a dream he's had before."

"How do you know?" She asked curiously.

"Because your right." Jon confessed, "I have warged before - only once, by accident. At your trial."

"I knew it!" Nieve said a little too boastfully. "I knew I saw you-"

Jon turned to glare at her but his body felt to weak to expresses irritation.

"But.. that's not what's important right now." She said her voice trailing off awkwardly.

He continued. "It was a dream of you."

"Me?"

"You're holding lantern; beckoning me to come towards the light." He said, eyes staring off into the distance, "…Know what it could mean?"

Nieve shrugged, cluelessly.

"Guess you've must have really made an impression on Ghost." Jon said, rubbing his stiff neck. His human body had locked up when he'd warged, now every muscle in his body ached.

"Wait," Nieve thought, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "You saw that same dream at the trial right; with me in it - I was the one holding the lantern?"

"Yes." Jon turned to her, noticing her skepticism.

"But that's not possible - I didn't meet Ghost until after my trial." She challenged, "How could he be dreaming of me, He'd never seen me?"

Jon just stared at her vacantly, he didn't have an answer for that. And right now he couldn't think beyond the thought of rest.

"So." Nieve grinned suddenly, "You did it! You warged!"

Jon looked at he's feet - it was true, he really was a skin-changer. "I"m not so sure that's a good thing." He muttered.

"Why not? Seems a whole lot better than the burden of sight, I can tell you that much." Nieve grunted.

Jon wasn't convinced, " All it is is just one more thing that makes me different. That makes me an outsider."

Nieve considered his words, goodness knows she's had to deal with that thought her whole life too. "Maybe," She said sadly, "but this is something you can at least learn to control."

Jon doesn't respond, and they just sit there in silence, Jon quietly contemplating Nieve's words. If she thought her powers a burden, what was to say his weren't too? This was magic - he'd always been weary of magic, he heard it usually came with a price and it was never an easy one. Did he really want to embrace this?

"I need to get back to my duties." Jon said abruptly, sliding off the bed, realising he'd been gone for hours - his men would be looking for their commander.

"You need rest by the looks of it." Nieve protested.

"Probably." Jon murmured, rubbing his forehead.

And then was closing the door behind him and Nieve was alone all but the still sleeping figure of ghost in the corner. She blinked at the creature,_ If the wall collapsed tomorrow, that creature would find an excuse to sleep through it._ She thought amused. She hadn't noticed how tense her body was for hours, since the moment she felt Stannis's meeting and had to explain to Jon of her sight.

She just lay back on the bed with a sigh. She felt awful laying this all on Jon, she despised her own abilities, now she'd inflicted Jon with the truth of his. But at least _he_ had the strength to control his - maybe someday Jon could learn to use it help people.

_We can't afford to loose him to corruption._ Vary's words echoed in her head, _if this all goes to plan - we will finally have a worthy king or queen, for the good of the realm._

"For the good of the realm" Nieve whispered to herself, but the words weren't as reassuring as she hoped.

**XXXXXX**

Over the next couple days Jon didn't talk to Nieve. He mostly kept to his study, trying - but inevitably failing - not to think about what had happened. She didn't come seek him out, he presumed she was just as scare of as he was of himself.

_Catelyn was right, I am a monster, maybe not in the way she thought I was but she was still right._

His mind wondered to how scared Nieve seemed telling him about her sight - she'd opened up to him and he didn't believe her, he felt awful, he didn't think for one second how she must feel before he began moaning about his own abilities. He felt guilty and he couldn't bring himself to face her which only made the guilt worse.

His head swarmed with questions but he couldn't let that be the top weight of his concern, not when winter was snapping at their heels. The Wildlings remained leaderless but the longer they were left to recover; the more time they had to regroup and prepare. Stannis wouldn't be at the wall much longer to protect them, and Jon knew a deal must be struck, he just didn't know if it was the right thing to do.

Meanwhile, Nieve had spent most of her days in the library, sorting books, reading histories of The Other, The Lands of Always Winter, Wildling folk tales and Undead Brides. The more she read, the more disturbing it all was and no less confusing and hopeless in finding a way to stop them. Sam had told her of the use of obsidian, the dragon glass piece he had used to protect Gilly and baby when attcked by a wight, but she wasn't sure they'd ever find enough of the obsidian to supply to an army, and so endeavoured to find a way of preventing the wights approach all together. An endeavour that was proving impossible.

Nieve sat yet reading another meaningless book, she huffed in frustration, slamming the book down on the table and buried her face into the open pages. "I guess if a seven hundred foot wall can't keep them out then nothing can! Why are we even bother?!"

"Welcome to my world," Sam sighed, closing his book too. "I've been at this for months, and I'm still not much close to answer since the night I happened to stab one with a shard of rock."

Nieve closed her eyes trying to calm herself down.

Sam could tell she was getting agitated so he thought it best to suggest a break. "It much be lunch time, why don't we go join the brothers in the hall. Clear our heads for a moment."

"I'm good here, thanks." Nieve said in a monotone voice, pick up and slamming down the next book from her pile.

"Nieve c'mon, you have to face the rest of the brothers at some point. You've eaten meals in the library every day."

"I prefer the peace."

Sam flinched as she aggressively flicked through the pages one by one.

"There's nothing to be afraid of." He said, immediately regretting his words.

"I'm not afraid, Sam!" Nieve snapped, "Well, actually I am, I'm afraid one of them might send me over the edge again, then you'd have another body to deal with."

"Nothing will happen, I promise." Sam assures her.

She rolled her eyes and stood up, storming towards the door. "You coming then or what, Tarly?"

Sam smiled and hurried after her.

The hall was packed, there was a loud rumble as the brothers chatted, but Nieve was mostly irrupted by the slopping, chewing and scraping bowls of the men as they ate. Gradually they noticed Sam arrive with Nieve and a shushed silence fell across the hall. They all stared at Nieve.

She sighed. _This was precisely what I was trying to avoid._

Sam couched uncomfortably, and pushed the reluctant Nieve forwards to free bench and a busy table by the middle aisle. The brothers began the chatter again but this time is was quieter, and Nieve was certain the chatter was about her. Nieve looked to the head table but Jon wasn't there._ I know he's avoiding me but he didn't know I would even be here!_

"Hey fellas," Sam said, he'd evidently never called them fellas in his life, as the brothers at the table all stared at him confused. "Um.. this is Nieve, Lady Nieve Sand-"

"I'm not a Lady." Nieve butt in, plonking herself down in a space on the bench and immediately helping herself to bread and pouring out bowl full of stew.

"Um, well, this is Nieve, and these are my brothers; Gared, Tom, Cotter, Adri, Finn and Ed." Sam gestured to each of them as he went.

Nieve barely looked up, eagerly tucking in to the meal. "Pleasure." She said through her mouthful.

"Gods, you really aren't a Lady, are you?" Finn murmured, sat across from her, watching as she stuffed her face.

"Thanks." Nieve smirked sarcastically, "I've kind of been in a cell for the last couple weeks, if you haven't heard. They don't feed often or decent meals in there so excuse me for wanting to take full advantage of the all-you-can-eat up here."

"Like you deserve our food anyway;" Ed spat, "How can you sit in this hall with us, no smudge of remorse?"

"Ask that question to your rapist brothers?" She said stilling scooping spoonfuls of stew.

"I would but you killed them!" Ed barked.

Nieve hissed, "Good riddance-"

"-Nieve!" Sam protected desperately, turning to the brothers, "She doesn't mean that.-"

"-So you lot really look out for each other then, huh?" Nieve cuts in again. "You all got each others backs? The backs of rapists and murderers…"

"Well, then you should fit right in." Gared said, smugly.

Nieve finally, looked up from her bowl to glare at the boy. He was handsome, auburn tousled hair and dimpled chin smattered in stubble. She knew exactly who this Gared kid was, and it was rich for him to start on her about murder.

She jabs her spoon in his direction. "Why don't you tell everybody what it is you did to end up here?" She demanded.

Gared tried his best to keep his face composed, "What makes you think I did something; what if I volunteered?"**  
**She challenged him, "Tell me, Gared Tuttle, was it worth it? Murdering that man only to end up here?"

Gared leaned forwards, slamming his fist on the table, his voice low and infuriated, "How did you know my name is Tuttle?"

"Secrets are my job." Nieve replied cooly.

She expected him to explode in that moment but then something more than rage and crept onto the Forrester's face. Sadness. It was almost heartbreaking.

"Well then, you would know I killed him because he murdered my family." Gared said his voice defiant yet sad.

Nieve stopped chewing, suddenly the food in her mouth tasted bitter. _I'm an absolute twat._ She thought. "No, I- I didn't know _that_. I'm- I am sorry.." She said meekly.

She stared Gared in the eye. Recognising his pain. She knew what it was like to what vengeance and she wouldn't judge anyone for wanting it, she even admired him for taking it.

_At least he committed to avenging his family unlike me._

Gared did the one thing she least expected in that moment, and extended a hand out to her.

Nieve stared at it like it was a trap, but forced herself to accept it, taking his hand in hers and shaking it firmly.

The mood round the table seemed to lighten up after that. Sam beamed as he watched Nieve try her best to get along with the brothers, and if she had to it admit it, their company wasn't that unbearable. She'd helped herself to two more servings and the brothers laughed at how hungry she was.

"You eat more than a starved dragon." Gared chuckled.

"I'm a growing girl." Nieve joked, and the men laughed louder, enjoying her flirtation.

"I bet you're the prettiest girl in Dorne." Finn said, abruptly. Wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Nieve rolled her eyes at the awkward compliment but she figured these guys weren't getting much female attention even before they joined the Watch so she decided to go easy on him.

_Well, easy-ish._

"Thank you, Finn. You should visit Dorne sometime; Maybe the whore's down there will finally get you laid." She sassed.

The other brothers burst out laughing at the violent blush on Finn's face. Nieve couldn't help but giggle too. But their laughter was short lived when a huge figure cast a shadow over them, tower over there table.

It was the silver haired crow. Allister Thorne.

"A lot of laughter from a table of worthless fucktards." He said loudly to them so the rest of the hall would hear. The room went silent again, anxious to here what Thorne would do next. But it was Nieve who spoke, she knew Thorne was picking on them because of her. She rose from her bench to stand eye to eye with the dickhead. He still towered over her but in her eyes he was a cockroach on the floor ready to be squashed.

"I guess we got a lot to laugh about; seeing as you tried your damned hardest to have me killed, yet I'm still here…"

The brothers at her table tried to hold in a snicker but Thorne heard them.

He turned and bellowed at them, "This bitch isn't your sister, nor is she your plaything. She is a fucking coloured cunt, who lures in men to slit their throats."

The brothers were quiet again, barely able to look Thorne in the eye. Nieve growled at their cowardice.

"And as for you," He rounds back to Nieve, "Don't think you're welcome here. If I had my way your blood would be staining the chopping block right now."

Nieve smiled viciously, "I answer only to the Lord Commander, and_ you're_ not the lord Commander." She said the last comment with extra venom, knowing it would sting the crow more.

He bared his teeth at her but said nothing more. He began to stride towards the exit of the hall, not before bashing her shoulder with his as he past.

Nieve remained standing, watching him until he'd gone. Many of the brothers were still speechless, staring at her as if she'd slain the Army of the Dead. But the brothers at her table looked cautious, worried even. She plopped back down into her seat, picking up the spoon to resume her meal. Sam watched her, Nieve looked up noticing all the brothers at the table were.

"What?" Nieve asked, slightly irritated.

Ed leaned forwards, muttering under his breath, "I hope you didn't just sign your own death sentence."

**XXXXXX**

Today's practice session was about to commence and Jon had never looked forward to it more. He needed to blow off some steam, and combat training was his favourite way to relax. When he fought he didn't have to think about anything. But he enjoyed teaching it too, and teaching it would completely distract him from his pressures and, more importantly, from Nieve.

Although he thought, as he walked into the courtyard, he saw the brothers all huddled together - surrounding something. He strode towards them, feet crunching on the frozen mud.

"-is it true the women in Dorne like it up the arse?" Jon heard one of his brothers asks, with a dirty and desperate chuckle.

"I've yet to find a woman that doesn't." He heard a flirtatious voice respond and the brothers erupted in laughter.

Angrily, he pushed his way to the centre of the huddled brothers to find Nieve sat on a bench a mischievous grin from ear to ear.

"Why aren't you in positions!" He bellowed to his men, and the brothers scattered off to the centre of the courtyard, grabbing their blunt training swords from the weapon's stand as they went.

Nieve sat quietly waiting for Jon to round on her.

"What are you doing out here?" He said, his voice low and threatening but his face was blushing.

"Oh finally talking to me again, are we?" She said nonchalantly, brushing a few flakes of snow from her furs.

"I want you back inside, now!" Jon growled.

"Yeesh, calm it, Snow." Nieve retorted, "Your brothers invited me to watch the training. Sam said he didn't have anything for me to do, and I'm here within your sights so I'm chaperoned. Am I breaking any rules, Lord commander?"

Jon huffed. He glanced up to the balcony, and caught the stern eye of Stannis - waiting spectate over today's session. A knot tightened in Jon's stomach, and he turned back to Nieve. "Just don't cause a fuss, okay?!"

Nieve raised her shoulders innocently, "You won't even know I'm here… except you will know I'm here because then otherwise I'd be breaking the rul-"

"-alright, alright just shut up and watch." Jon said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nieve smiled as she watched Jon walk away, he seemed embarrassed that she was going to watch him fight. Winding him up was too easy.

The courtyard of crows quieten, swords and shields ready, awaiting Jon's instructions.

"We'll start with the usual warm up," He yelled, "split into pairs and practise blocking and jabbing."

The men groaned evidently having done this exercise many times before, but Jon ceases their groaning:

"Alright, I know it's boring but the repetition is what's going to save your live. When your out there you have to know this stuff without thinking about it, it's got to become more than instinct, it's muscle memory, telling you when to block, when to dodge, when to attack and strike. If you're thinking to hard about it; you're a dead man."

Nieve watch Jon pacing around the men, watching their technique as they lunged and blocked. She thinks about her training sessions with Arya, wondering what she's doing now. Hopefully, still training, playing the faceless games and tradition, but still stealing away moments to be with Gendry or reciting her list. The girl deserved to get her vengeance, she had been through too much not to.

After several minutes Jon called there attention: "Alright, that's enough for the warm up. I see some of your techniques have improved, for others there's still a way to go but don't worry, we'll do one to one's now. Gared, you're up first."

Gared wasn't half bad, he had the technique down, good footing, his swipes were powerful but they were delayed, like Jon had warned, he was thinking too much. Trying to find the areas left undefended, but Jon, who was too quick, had left him none. Soon Jon had his sword hovering above Gared's head.

"You're thinking too hard," Jon said softly, "You're taking to long to decide where is best to strike, which will only leave time for your opponent to catch you off guard."

Gared nodded.

"Again." Jon said, and he did another round with Gared until he improved.

"Better. Who's next?"

Jon went through each crow, going as many rounds as they needed, never tiring. The crows in the meantime sparred with each other but Nieve watch only Jon, noting his style, habits, tricks, his tells. She studied him until he'd finished with the last crow.

"Now I think it's time we learn a new move, it's an offensive parry; that turns your opponent's attack into your own attack. Who wants to demonstrate this with me?"

The men looked exhausted, and none of them wanted to volunteer to be showed up by Jon.

"I'll do it!" Nieve called out from her bench.

Jon glared at her, "Maybe someone who's actually training?"

"What's wrong, Snow? Worried I'll show you up in front of your brothers?" Nieve arched her brow enticingly.

Jon had to admit he was a little curious - he knew she was good but he'd only heard tales of her skill. Could they match his?

"Alright Sand, get over here and grab a sword." He yelled, hiding his smirk.

Nieve rose from her bench, smoothing down her leathers and furs arrogantly, before striding towards her challenger. The brothers all stepped back from her, parting a way for her to approach Jon, her eyes blazing into his. She turned to the Cotter, who handed her his sword wordlessly. She twisted the blade in a flourish; adjusting to the balance and weight of it in her hand quickly, and crossed one foot over the other, beginning to circle around Jon. Jon wasn't trained in the same majestic manner she was, he'd never had a dancing master like Arya had, but he soon caught on to her movements - her attempts to intimidate him and testing his reactions to blindspots. So he pivoted with her, always eager to keep her insight.

The brothers were eerily quietly, intensely watching as Sand and Snow went head to head. Jon struck out, with a bit too much force considering to was a demonstrating, but Nieve was ready for him catching his strike near her hilt, swiftly stepping over the side of his blade and grazing her sword down to his hilt. Her footwork effortless in a flashed she'd sent an elbow to his hand, disarming Jon and swished the blade towards his head before he could react.

Jon stood frozen, Nieve's blade hovering inches from his temple. The courtyard was silent. She had executed the move Jon had intended to demonstrate, they were all stunned by her speed.

The sound of a slow hand clap echoed around the courtyard. Nieve's eyes flicked up to the balcony to see Stannis, hands slapping together in the most patronising manner.

Nieve tried to ignore Stannis. Remembering she where she was and lowered her blade awkwardly. Taking a few steps backwards and ignoring the stares from the brothers. _At least none of them will think to mess with now._ She thought, but she was embarrassed, their silence had reminded her once again of how bloodthirsty she could be.

She cleared her throat stiffly, as she turned to face Jon, who was bending to retrieve his blade.

"Nice trick with the elbow; I've never thought to disarm them in the moment like that." He said, admiringly.

Nieve didn't want to take the compliment, but she managed a small smile anyway, not wishing to show her discomfort. "Shall we try it again?" She asked stiffly.

Jon chuckled, "Maybe slower this time, eh?"

Nieve rolled her eyes - his teasing putting her ease and she began to feel a little more like herself again.

They repeated the move, this time at a slower place and Jon talking through their movement to the brothers.

They were demonstrating a third time when one of the brothers called out:

"Let's see the commander and Lady Sand go head to head!"

The other brothers cheered at the idea, but Jon waved them into silence.

"That's really not the point of this exercise!" He called to them.

"Come on, Snow." Ed grinned from behind Jon.

Jon turned to give him a glare but Nieve piped up.

"Now, now boys - surely you don't want to see your lord commander here knocked to the ground by a girl?"

The brothers laughed.

Jon scoffed, trying not to show that he truly was amused by this too.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asked Nieve confidently.

Nieve grinned, eyebrow raised enticingly. She suddenly swiped her blade at Jon, who was caught of guard, barely had a moment to dodge; the tip missed his face by a centimetre. The brothers cheered gleefully at the entertainment, watching the flashes and crashes of their swords, Nieve graceful spins and swift twists and Jon's stoic blocks and sharp strikes. Jon knew her greatest strength was her speed. He'd heard her father was known to be called the Viper for his fast strikes - not to mention his poisoned blades. But he also Nieve had to be quick, she would not match him in her physically strength so she made up for it in her speed an accuracy. His only chance to beat her was to wait for her to make a foot wrong and then overpower her. But unfortunately she was flawless in every step, executing each flourish in perfection. His only bet was to provoke her, get her to make a sloppy move. She was taking his movement learning his repeated motions and predicting his patterns. So he decided to perform the same motif of moves four times, she reacted to it everytime, and he began the same motions on the fifth before switching up the angle, misleading her to block the wrong side. His blade swiped down, and she just managed to get nicked on her shoulder.

Nieve grunted in irritation, the blades were dulled and her furs and leather were thick so it did not pierce her skin, but she knew the scrape would bruise. She growled, and forced a harder strike at Jon. He presumed now she was angered she'd be more inclined to make mistakes, but he was wrong. It appeared Nieve had been holding back, she whipped her blade furiously, he just about met her sword with his, his feet backing up desperately at her advances. She had him dazedly with her twists, like she'd intended, before making finishing her attack with a unexpected side twist somersault, a move her father had once taught her when she would spar with him with spears. She'd learnt to apply the move to a sword, landing the flip without a wobble. Jon stammered back, even with her dulled blade she'd managed to slice open his leathers, a tiny scratch beneath on his arm red with blood.

Nieve winked at Jon mischievously, and the brother were gasping at her gymnastics. Jon wasn't going to dwell on the cut on his arm long however, crying out and kicking forward with his right leg, his foot connected with Nieve's chest and she stumbled back winded but she remained on her feet.

Jon lunged at her to counter strike before she could swipe again. She met his sword with hers, pushing all force against his, their faces so close they were almost touching. Jon could feel her heavy breath, see every fleck of hazel that toned her green eyes, a single curl had fallen loose from her tied hair, straying inconveniently down her face, the tips of the strand stuck to the moisture on her the lips.

Nieve took her moment: She lashed out, swiping his legs from underneath him. Jon was swept to the ground, hitting it with a thud, the dirt frozen solid, it hurt but not as much as the embarrassment of his momentary distraction. The men laughed and cheered, but Nieve didn't brag. She offered a hand to Jon. He looked at it and then at Nieves face. She didn't show any sign of pity nor smugness, she just smiled slightly. It was welcoming, and Jon knew it was in good faith. The brothers cheered even louder as Jon slapped his hand in hers, Nieve pulled him up.

"Did I even stand a chance with you?" Jon smiled.

"You're lucky the blades were dulled." Nieve joked.

Jon looked down, realising they were still hand in hands. Nieve noticed too, she clear her throat and they dropped the hands. She wandered awkwardly back to Cotter - handing him his blade. He looked at blunt weapon with a new found respect - like the sword had special powers to vanquish all enemies. Jon scratched the back of his head, remembering the training session had run over and he'd have to tend to his other duties.

"So, I'm afraid we've run out of time, I promise I'll practice the parrying with all of you tomorrow, but for now I must get back to my duties. You're welcome to stay and practice in pairs, but only if your other duties have been fulfilled - I'm looking at you Yorick." Jon added with a smirk towards a red head brother at the back of the crowd. The men laughed.

"All right back to work you lot." Jon finished, and strode towards the stairs to head back inside the castle, catching a glance at Nieve.

She met his stare, so he quickly looked away, until he was safely through the castle doors.

_She'll be the death of me._ He thought, closing his eyes with a sigh._ If not with her blade, then with her beauty._

**XXXXXX**

**Not my best chapter I know, but I hope you like it anyway. Please Follow, Favourite and please please please review - I wanna know what you think! Thanks guys.**

**Join me again for ****_Chapter 10 - Friend or Foe?_**


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